THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE 


and      s 


BY 

MRS.  E.  E.  BOYD, 

AUTHOR    OF    "TWO    LITTLE    YELLOW    JACKETS," 

"  THE    BIG    DOTS    AND    THE    LITTLE    DOTS," 

"  THE  P.  D.  S.,"    "  ONCE  UPON  A  TiilE." 


PHILADELPHIA: 
ALFRED    MARTIEN, 

1214  CHESTNUT  STREET. 
1871. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Conpress,  in  the  year  1871,  by 

ALFRED  MARTLEN, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


J  iflaitifii, 


r  auO  Stmotuper. 


7 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.                         PAGE 
JERRY  AND  ROSE 5 

CHAPTER  II. 
THE  STEP-MOTHER  AND  JIM  CROW'S  BONNET 20 

CHAPTER  III. 
JERRY'S  STORY 41 

CHAPTER  IV. 
JERRY'S  "LITTLE  WIFE"  GOES  AWAY.... 61 

CHAPTER   V. 
WHICH  is  JERRY'S  "OTHER  CHAPTER." 81 

CHAPTER  VI. 
WHAT  ROSE  DID  AT  AUNT  BETSY'S 103 

CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  SKEIN  UNRAVELLED 128 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
KEEPING  THE  TOLLGATE 146 

[3] 

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CHAPTER  I. 

JERRY     AND      ROSE. 

|VERY  one,  even  those  who 
lived  miles  away,  knew  Jerry. 
He  said  he  never  could  tell  why  his 
mother  picked  that  name  for  him  out 
of  all  the  other  names  in  the  Bible, 
unless  it  was  that  he  was  such  a  very 
crying  baby,  and  she  thought  it  the 
most  appropriate.  There  was  one 
thing,  no  one  but  her  gave  him  the 
**  5 


6         The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

full  name,  "Jeremiah,"  so  that  after 
all,  it  was  not  so  doleful,  but  "  rather 
chirpy." 

Every  one  for  miles  around  knew 
Jerry,  and  what  is  saying  still  more, 
every  one  respected  him.  The  min- 
ister, when  he  was  tired  studying,  and 
very  often  could  not  find  a.  text  that 
suited  him  for  the  next  Sunday's  ser- 
mon, went  to  Jerry's  shop,  and  had 
a  long  talk  with  the  old  man.  Then 
he  was  sure  to  come  out  with  a  new 
light  in  his  eye,  and  a  gladder,  quicker 
step,  feeling  that  he  had  gained  some- 
thing which  would  not  only  be  of  use 
to  himself,  but  many  others. 

He  often  told  Jerry  the  best  part 


Jerry  and  Rose.  7 

of  the  sermon  was  of  his  getting  up, 
when  the  cobbler  told  him  what  good 
fare  he  had  set  before  them. 

But  the  old  man  never  could  see 
how  he  had  any  hand  in  the  making 
of  such  a  great  thing  as  a  sermon. 
If  it  had  been  a  shoe,  he  could  have 
challenged  the  parson  or  any  other 
man.  No  matter  what  hurry  people 
were  in,  they  tried  to  find  time  to  put 
their  heads  in  the  window,  and  bid  him 
"  a  good-day,"  just  to  hear  his  cheery 
voice  and  see  his  good-natured  smile. 

Ah!  but  didn't  the  boys  like  him! 
You  ought  to  have  seen  them  on 
Friday  afternoon,  when  school  was 
dismissed,  which  it  always  was  sooner 


8         The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

than  on  other  days,  "  make  tracks,"  as 
they  said,  for  Jerry's  cottage.  If  they 
had  failed  to  come,  Jerry  would  have 
been  as  much  disappointed  as  they, 
for  that  was  "reception  day,"  and  a 
good  time  all  around  was  expected. 
If  a  boy  for  some  misconduct  was 
detained  longer  than  the  rest  on  that 
day,  he  would  gladly  have  taken  a 
whipping  for  the  sake  of  being  let  off, 
and  Jerry  never  got  his  sails  fully 
spread,  the  boys  thought,  until  all 
were  there.  The  shop  was  not  a 
very  commodious  place,  but  it  was 
astonishing  how  many  boys  could 
crowd  into  it,  and  yet  leave  room 
for  Jerry  to  draw  out  his  wax-ends. 


Jerry  and  Rose.  9 

It  was  like  other  shoemaker's  shops, 
strewn  over  with  bits  and  scraps ;  a 
last  here,  and  an  awl  there,  and  every- 
thing smelling  strongly  of  leather ;  but 
the  walls  were  as  white  as  many  bed- 
rooms, and  on  the  window-sill,  in 
summer  and  winter,  stood  two  pots 
of  geranium,  and  a  rose  that  looked 
as  if  it  bloomed  on  purpose  to  make 
the  old  man  glad. 

Often,  when  he  was  stitching  away 
and  thinking,  his  eyes  grew  moist  and 
so  dim  that  he  had  to  rub  them  dry 
with  his  sleeve ;  but  when  he  looked 
at  its  freshness  and  bloom,  his  eyes 
lit  up  with  a  glad  light  and  the  smiles 
played  about  his  wrinkled  face.  For, 


io       TJie  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

bonny  as  the  plant  was,  his  little 
blossom,  his  Rose,  was  far  bonnier, 
and  never  could  there  be  sweeter 
flush  than  that  on  her  fair  cheeks. 

He  must  always  have  thought  of 
her  when  his  eyes  grew  moist,  and 
when  the  smile  and  the  light  broke 
over  his  face,  he  still  thought  of  her; 
but  O,  they  were  so  different,  those 
thoughts.  The  first  pictured  her  a 
little  lovely  orphan  when  he  was  gone, 
with  no  one  left  to  call  her  loving 
names  and  give  her  tender  care.  The 
other  saw  her  loved  and  cherished  by 
Him  who  cares  for  every  little  plant, 
and  watches  the  unfolding  of  every 
blossom.  "Why,  even  the  wild- 


Jerry  and  Rose.  n 

flowers,  little  orphans  as  they  are, 
are  just  as  dear  to  Him  as  the  rarest 
flowers  in  the  grand  gardens,  and  He 
cares  for  them  because  they  are  so 
lonely,  and  never  forgets  the  colors 
they  ought  to  wear,  or  the  perfume 
they  ought  to  give.  My  Rose,  my 
blossom,  will  be  safe  in  His  keeping, 
aye,  safer  than  in  mine,"  he  added, 
his  voice  growing  steadier  and  his 
heart  stronger  as  he  thought.  And 
Rose  was  as  fair  a  blossom  as  ever 
grew.  Her  sparkling  eye,  glowing 
cheek,  and  merry  laugh,  were  sure 
to  draw  forth  the  exclamation — "  How 
lovely !" 

But  better   than   all   this,  she  was 


12       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

truthful,  trusting,  obedient  and  un- 
selfish. She  liked  to  make  others 
happy,  and  you  had  only  to  say 
something  would  please  you,  and  it 
was  done  at  once,  if  Rose  could  do 
it.  Then  of  the  two,  she  seemed 
the  happier,  and  after  all,  really 
was,  for  the  Bible  tells  us,  "It  is 
more  blessed  to  give  than  receive ;" 
and  when  we  give  pleasure  to  others, 
our  pleasure  is  two-fold.  Something 
comes  into  our  hearts  then,  that  we 
never  could  have  without  thinking  of 
some  one  else. 

Some  people  shook  their  heads 
when  her  mother  died,  and  said, 
"Poor  child,  what  a  pity  she  could 


Jerry  and  Rose.  13 

not  go  too,  hers  will  be  a  sorry 
life,  now  that  her  poor  mother  is 
gone." 

But  Jerry  did  not  thank  them  for 
their  wish  that  his  blossom  should 
fade  and  die.  He  prayed  that  she 
might  be  spared  to  gladden  and 
comfort  his  old  age,  and  that  he 
might  have  wisdom  given  him  to 
train  her  up  for  heaven.  For  a 
great  many  years  Jerry's  wife  had 
been  dead,  and  Rose's  mother  kept 
house  for  him.  When  she  left  him, 
he  told  Rose,  who  was  only  four 
years  old,  that  she  was  to  be  the 
"little  wife,  and  take  care  of  grand- 
father." 

2 


14       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

This  made  her  clap  her  little  hands 
and  laugh;  but  theje  were  many 
hours  when  he  had  to  lay  aside  his 
work,  and  sit  with  her  on  his  knee, 
trying  to  divert  her  thoughts  from  her 
mother,  by  telling  her  funny  stories, 
and  asking  her  what  she  was  going  to 
give  him  to  eat  that  day. 

Sometimes  this  had  the  desired 
effect,  and  smiles  broke  over  her 
mouth  while  the  tears  were  yet  upon 
her  lashes ;  but  many  times  all  this 
failed,  and  the  old  man  was  at  a  loss 
what  next  to  try. 

One  day  a  happy  thought  came  to 
him,  and  he  told  her  of  the  babe  born 
in  Bethlehem.  How,  when  it  came 


Jerry  and  Rose.  15 

from  heaven,  the  angels  flew  down  to 
tell  the  shepherds  to  be  glad,  and  how 
they  made  such  beautiful  music  when 
they  sang. 

Rose  lifted  up  her  head,  which  had 
been  pillowed  on  her  grandfather's 
arm,  and  listened.  Then  he  went  on. 
"  The  shepherds  were  so  glad  to  hear 
the  baby  had  come,  that  they  left  their 
sheep  and  dear  little  lambs  and  went 
to  see  it;  then  they  v/ent  back  and 
told  every  one  about  the  dear  child. 
For  the  good  Lord,  our  Heavenly 
Father,  had  sent  him  out  of  heaven  to 
make  people  happy  and  teach  chil- 
dren how  to  be  good.'* 

"What    was    the    baby's    name?" 


1 6       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

asked  Rose,  with  a  little  sob,  as  if 
the  great  trouble  was  ready  to  break 
out  afresh. 

"Jesus,"  said  her  grandfather. 

"  Did  Jesus  cry,  and  did  his  grand- 
father nurse  him  ?"  asked  Rose. 

"  He  was  very  good,  and  an  old 
grandfather  nursed  him  and  loved 
him  better  than  any  one  else.  But 
a  wicked  king  wanted  to  take  him 
away  and  kill  him." 

"  I  hate  that  man,  I  won't  ask  God 
to  make  him  good,"  interrupted  Rose 
excitedly,  looking  into  her  grand- 
father's face  with  eagerness.  "  Did 
he  get  the  little  baby,  the  naughty, 
bad  man?" 


Jerry  and  Rose.  17 

"No,  he  did  not  get  him,  and  the 
baby  grew  up  to  be  a  man,  and  little 
children  clapped  their  hands  and  sang 
when  they  saw  him,  and  he  took  them 
in  his  arms  and  blessed  them." 

Rose  had  never  learned  to  talk 
baby-talk,  but  had  always  had  a  little 
womanly  way,  and  she  liked  to  under- 
stand things,  so  she  said,  "  I  guess  ycu 
mean,  grandfather,  that  he  kissed  the 
little  girls  and  boys." 

"  Well,  maybe  that  was  it,"  said  the 
old  man,  delighted  with  his  success. 
"  But  now  suppose  we  get  the  supper. 
You  set  the  table,  and  grandfather 
will  toast  some  bread,  then  some 
other  day,  if  you  are  good,  he  will 


1 8       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

tell  you  more  about  the  holy  child 
Jesus." 

Jumping  from  his  knee,  after  having 
a  kiss  and  a  hug,  the  "little  wife" 
mounted  a  chair,  and  handed  the 
dishes  down  to  the  old  man,  with 
orders  not  to  fix  them,  only  to  set 
them  on  the  table,  which  orders  he 
laughingly  obeyed,  and  went  on  with 
his  toasting. 

After  that,  when  the  little  heart 
was  lonely,  nothing  cheered  it  so 
much  as  to  hear  about  Jesus.  She 
always  forgot  to  cry  then ;  she  was 
so  glad  he  made  the  blind  people  to 
see,  and  the  sick  well.  Very  often 
her  grandfather  got  her  to  tell  him 


Jerry  and  Rose.  19 

about  the  Saviour,  or  sometimes  when 
he  told  her  about  the  kind  things 
Jesus  did,  he  purposely  forgot  some 
part,  so  that  she  might  correct  him. 
And  it  astonished  him  to  find  how 
much  she  knew. 

Although  so  young,  nothing  had 
such  great  effect  by  way  of  rebuke 
for  misconduct,  as  to  have  her  grand- 
father say,  "Jesus  would  not  have 
done  that." 

"Then  /  won't,"  was  the  artless 
reply,  and  so  the  beautiful  life  of  the 
Saviour  was  giving  greater  charm 
and  beauty  to  the  life  of  the  child 
Rose. 


2O       The  Cobbler  and  his  Ros&. 
CHAPTER  II. 

THE   STEP-MOTHER  AND   JIM    CROW'S   BONNET. 

|HE  minister's  wife  wanted  to 
take  Rose  when  her  mother 
died,  and  bring  her  up  with  her  little 
daughter  Mary ;  but  the  idea  of  part- 
ing was  so  painful  to  the  old  man  that 
she  did  not  urge  it.  Every  week, 
however,  and  sometimes  very  often 
through  the  week,  Rose  went  to  the 
parsonage  to  play  with  Mary,  who 
called  her  Cousin  Rose,  and  watched 
with  eagerness  for  her  coming. 
They  were  both  about  the  same 


The  Step- Mother.  21 

age,  but  Mary  was  one  of  those  timid 
natures  that  must  have  a  stronger 
to  cling  to,  and  she  found  all  she 
needed  in  Rose. 

Mary  thought  of  things,  and  Rose 
did  them ,  then  when  Mary  wondered 
and  admired,  Rose  laughed  and  said, 
"Just  as  if  every  one  could  not  do 
that,  why  it  is  as  easy  as  anything." 

Mary  thought  there  never  was  such 
a  pretty  little  girl  as  Rose,  with  her 
crimson  cheeks  and  sparkling  eyes ; 
but  Rose  thought  the  pink  and  white 
of  Mary's  a  great  deal  prettier.  Mrs. 
Lapsley  took  care  that  Rose  should 
be  dressed  neatly  and  in  a  becoming 
way,  so  that  Mary  and  she  very  often 


22       The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

had    dresses    alike,    to    their    great 
delight. 

They  were  both  too  young  to  know 
that  there  could  be  any  distinction 
between  a  cobbler's  grandchild  and  a 
minister's  daughter,  and  Mrs.  Lapsley 
had  no  intention  that  they  should  ever 
feel  it.  She  taught  them  that  no  one 
could  be  beautiful,  no  matter  how 
finely  they  were  dressed,  unless  they 
had  a  kind  and  pleasant  manner,  and 
that  people  were  not  loved  and 
thought  well  of  so  much  because 
they  were  rich,  as  because  they  were 
good  and  unselfish.  So  they  grew 
up  together,  trying  to  be  good  and 
kind,  and  although  they  sometimes 


The  Step- Mother.  23 

had  little  quarrels,  such  as  children 
all  have,  Rose  never  felt  that  she 
had  not  as  good  a  right  to  be  treated 
well  as  Mary,  and  Mary  never  thought 
of  reminding  her  that  she  was  "only 
a  cobbler's  little  girl." 

"Guess  what  I  saw  around  the 
corner?"  exclaimed  Rose,  as  she  ran 
breathless  to  her  friend  one  day  after 
school — "a  step-mother!" 

"  How  do  you  know  it  was  a  step- 
mother?" asked  Mary,  coolly.  "And 
even  if  it  was,  that  would  be  no  great 
thing.  You  can  see  plenty  of  them 
all  the  time.  I  know  children  who 
have  step-mothers." 

"  Why,  she  was  sitting  on  the  step, 


24       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

nursing  a  baby,  and  Minnie  Hall  said 
she  was  a  step-mother.  John  Robbins 
says  step-mothers  take  children  by 
their  hair  and  pull  it  out,  and  Minnie 
says  all  the  mothers  who  sit  on  steps 
are  step-mothers." 

"  I  guess  they  are  ^/-mothers,  you 
silly  Rose,  because  they  sit  on  the 
steps.  But  they  are  not  the  kind  of 
ones  John  Robbins  meant,  and  he  tells 
a  story,  they  dont  take  children  by 
the  hair ;  he  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
himself.  I  know  some  step-mothers, 
and  they  are  real  kind,  and  their 
children  love  them  as  much  as  we 
love  mamma." 

"Then  Minnie  Hall  is  bad  too,  and 


The  Step- Mother.  25 

I  will  not  go  with  her  any  more,"  said 
Rose  decidedly.  What  is  a  real  step- 
mother, Mary?" 

"Why,  a  real  step-mother  is — well 
suppose  mamma  was  dead,  only  she 
isn't,  and  I  never  want  her  to  be  dead 
— well  suppose  she  was,  and  papa 
should  marry  some  other  lady,  because 
there  wouldn't  be  any  one  to  buy  my 
clothes,  and  attend  to  the  servants ; 
well,  she  would  be  my  step-mother, 
that  is  what  it  means.  I  think  it  is 
very  kind  for  ladies  to  be  little  girls' 
step-mothers  when  their  own  mothers 
die,  don't  you  ?  Mamma  is  your  step- 
mother now  you  know,  because  you 
have'nt  got  any  other  mother,  only 


26       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

you  haven't  got  a  father,  and  she 
is  not  married  to  your  grandfather." 

"Is  that  what  it  means?  I  wish  I 
had  a  real  step-mother,  to  live  with 
me  all  the  time/' 

"  She  might  punish  you,  you  know, 
and  that  wouldn't  be  very  nice,"  said 
Mary  with  emphasis,  not  too  well 
pleased  with  Rose  for  wanting  to 
have  any  one  beside  herself  to  love. 

"O,  grandfather  wouldn't  let  her, 
besides  you  said  they  were  nice  and 
kind." 

"  Well,  so  I  did,  but  they  might  get 
angry  sometimes  and  give  their  chil- 
dren a  whipping." 

Rose  did  not  reply,  but  all  through 


The  Step- Mother.  27 

their  play  she  thought  how  nice  it 
would  be  to  have  a  step-mother. 
When  she  went  home,  after  kissing 
her  grandfather  she  sat  down  close 
beside  him,  for  being  eight  years  old, 
she  thought  herself  too  large  to  sit  on 
his  knee,  and  putting  an  arm  around 
his  neck  she  said,  "I  wish  I  had  a 
step-mother,  grandfather.  Won't  you 
get  me  one  ?" 

"What  ails  the  child?"  he  replied, 
laughing,  and  taking  off  his  glasses  to 
wipe  them,  then  putting  them  on  and 
turning  to  Rose,  who  sat  waiting  for 
his  answer — "A  step-mother,  what 
put  that  in  your  head  little  wife  ?  Do 
you  know  what  a  step-mother  is  ?" 


28       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

Rose  told  him  all  that  had  occurred, 
and  then  renewed  her  plea.  "  Mary's 
mother  is  good,  and  I  love  her  next  to 
you,  grandfather,  but  she  does  not 
live  with  us,  and  I  want  a  mother  to 
stay  here  all  the  time." 

The  old  man's  heart  smote  him ;  he 
was  afraid  he  had  done  wrong  in 
keeping  the  child  with  him,  instead  of 
giving  her  to  Mrs.  Lapsley,  so  for 
fear  if  he  waited  longer  his  courage 
should  fail,  he  said,  "  If  the  little  wife 
went  to  live  with  Mary's  mother,  that 
would  do  just  as  well,  wouldn't  it  ?" 

"  And  leave  you,  grandfather  ?" 

"  O  well,  you  could  see  me  every 
day;"  but  here  he  thought  he  had 


The  Step- Mother.  29 

better  stop,  for  he  was  not  sure  he 
could  keep  down  the  choking  feeling. 

"  Well,  I  wouldn't  leave  you  for  all 
the  world,  grandfather,  not  even  for 
Mary  and  Mrs.  Lapsley.  Who  would 
get  the  supper  ready,  and  wash  up 
the  dishes,  and  keep  house  for  you? 
Would  you  like  me  to  leave  you, 
grandfather  ?" 

Old  Jerry  laid  down  his  work,  and 
drawing  her  on  his  knee,  he  stroked 
her  wavy  hair  with  his  hard,  toil-worn 
hands.  Then,  in  a  trembling  voice, 
he  said:  "If  the  little  blossom  was 
taken  away,  the  old  tree  would  soon 
wither  and  die,  for  'tis  that  that  keeps 
it  green."  But  in  a  more  cheerful 


30      The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

tone  he  added,  "  Nobody  will  ever 
think  as  much  of  grandfather  as  his 
Rose,  so  she  must  be  little  wife,  step- 
mother, and  everything." 

He  drew  her  closer,  holding  her 
so  tight  that  he  almost  took  her 
breath  away,  she  said.  Then  when 
he  had  kissed  her  rosy  lips,  he  asked, 
"  Is  grandfather  to  have  the  little  wife 
all  to  himself,  or  must  there  be  the 
step-mother  ?" 

"  I  guess  I'll  be  all,"  she  said,  laugh- 
ing and  jumping  from  his  arms,  "  and 
I'll  play  step-mother  to  my  kitten, 
and  punish  it  when  it  is  naughty." 

Jerry  sat  watching  her  in  her  chase 
after  the  kitten,  thinking  to  himself, 


The  Step- Mother.  31 

"  It  is  human  nature  the  world  over. 
The  good  Lord  puts  these  feelings 
in  the  hearts  of  the  little  ones,  and 
nothing  that  any  one  can  do  will 
take  them  out.  I'm  not  her  mother, 
that  Is  very  clear." 

In  the  meantime  Rose  had  found 
the  kitten,  and  was  preparing  to  cut 
out  a  bonnet  and  circular,  so  that 
she  could  take  it  out  walking,  as 
mothers  did  their  children.  Of  course 
it  twisted  around  and  shook  its  head 
when  the  paper  rattled  about  its  ears, 
and  then  it  had  its  ears  boxed,  and 
was  told  that  it  might  as  well  sit  still 
at  once,  for  it  should  not  disobey  its 
mother. 


32       Tlie  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

After  repeated  efforts  on  the  part 
of  the  kitten  to  get  away,  and  as 
great  on  the  part  of  Rose,  who  was 
determined  it  shotdd  look  like  other 
children,  the  paper  patterns  were  cut, 
and  it  scampered  off,  not  once  looking 
back,  for  fear  of  being  recaptured. 

"It  is  a  very  troublesome  child," 
said  Rose,  as  she  laid  down  the  scis- 
sors and  paper  to  look  among  her 
patches  for  silk  with  which  to  make 
the  bonnet.  As  it  was  summer,  she 
could  wait  a  little  while  for  the  cape; 
but  it  would  not  do  to  take  it  out 
in  the  sun  without  something  on  its 
head,  its  complexion  might  be  spoiled. 
"It  is  a  very  troublesome  child  indeed, 


The  Step- Mother.  33 

and  will  have  to  get  a  great  many 
whippings ;  the  idea  of  its  scratching 
its  mother  in  that  shameful  way !" 
Here  she  held  up  her  little  fat  hand, 
on  which  were  several  lono-  red 

o 

marks. 

It  took  a  long  time  to  choose  be- 
tween the  colors,  there  were  so  many 
pretty  pieces.  "That  green  would 
be  sweet,"  she  said ;  "  if  I  only  had 
Jim  Crow  here,  I  could  try  it  on." 

But  Jim  Crow  had  had  enough 
of  millinery  for  that  day,  and  was 
playing  hide-and-seek  all  by  himself 
out  among  the  bushes  in  a  neighbor- 
ing yard. 

"There,   this   is  the  very  thing.'     I 


34      The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

will  make  the  bonnet  of  it ;"  and  she 
drew  out  a  piece  of  yellow  satin, 
and  held  it  up  admiringly.  "But 
there  must  be  something  stiff  to  make 
it  on ;"  so,  after  a  long  search,  she 
found  a  piece  of  thick  brown  paper, 
such  as  is  used  for  wrapping  round 
heavy  goods,  and  laying  the  pattern 
on  it,  cut  out  the  bonnet-frame. 

Every  little  while,  her  grandfather 
looked  up  and  smiled  to  see  how 
handy  she  was,  and  how  like  a  little 
woman. 

"  But  she  could  not  help  it,"  he 
thought,  "with  such  a  good  teacher 
as  Mrs.  Lapsley." 

It   did  not  take  long  to  cover  the 


The  Step- Mother.  35 

frame,  for  Rose  seemed  to  know 
almost  as  well  where  to  begin,  and 
how  to  proceed,  as  if  she  had  been 
apprenticed  to  the  millinery  business. 

"  Now  I  must  trim  it,"  she  said ;  and 
as  the  trimming  was  the  most  im- 
portant part,  that  required  longer 
time  and  more  thought.  In  one 
corner  of  her  bureau  drawer  there 
was  a  little  painted  box  with  a  glass 
lid.  It  used  to  be  her  mother's,  and 
Rose  was  very  careful  of  it,  and  kept 
it  in  the  same  place.  Now  she  took 
it  out,  and  emptying  out  bits  of  ribbon, 
old  flowers  and  feathers,  began  her 
selection,  laying  each  one  on  the 
bonnet,  to  get  the  effect. 


36       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

"O,  it  will  be  too  splendid!"  she 
exclaimed,  as  she  threw  over  the 
yellow  satin  a  bright  scarlet  ribbon. 
"Jim  Crow  will  look  elegant."  Then 
a  green  and  black  feather,  from  the 
tail  of  the  old  rooster  who  had  died, 
was  added,  and  this  called  for  another 
exclamation  of  delight.  Next,  a  large 
pink  rose  with  a  yellow  centre,  was 
selected,  because  it  was  too  pretty  to 
leave  out,  and  then  the  box  was  laid 
away,  and  then  the  trimming  com- 
menced. 

The  feather  was  made  to  stand  up 
as  straight  as  possible,  so  that  when 
Jim  Crow  shook  his  head  it  would 
wave'  and  nod  like  the  plumes  on 


The  Step- Mother.  37 

a  hearse.  The  pink  rose  graced  the 
other  side;  but  the  crowning  glory 
was  the  scarlet  ribbon.  It  was  so 
broad  that  it  nearly  covered  the  entire 
bonnet,  and  its  bows  looked  like  grim 
sentinels  keeping  guard  over  feather 
and  flower. 

Suddenly,  Rose  remembered  the 
inside  quilling.  "  Such  a  stupid — to 
make  a  bonnet  without  something 
inside !" 

So  box  and  bag  were  again  ex- 
amined, and  an  old  piece  of  lace 
brought  out,  which  looked,  judging 
from  the  color  and  width,  as  if  it 
had  been  part  of  her  grandmother's 
cap  border  in  the  days  when?  they 


38       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

were  worn  nearly  a  quarter  of  a 
yard  deep. 

Part  of  this  had  been  torn  off, 
so  that  it  was  only  about  a  finger- 
length  wide,  and  soon  it  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  bonnet,  where  it  would 
not  stand  out  properly  as  a  border 
should,  but  kept  falling  over  in  a 
very  provoking  way.  "Well,  it  will 
do  for  a  veil,"  she  said,  after  several 
fruitless  efforts  to  keep  it  in  place. 
"  Mothers  always  put  veils  over  their 
children's  faces,  when  they  carry  them 
out." 

"Is  not  that  magnificent,  grand- 
and  the  bonnet  was  held 
the  old  man's  spectacles, 


The  Step-Mother.  39 

who  declared  it  almost  made  him 
wish  he  was  going  to  wear  it. 

"Then  you  shall,"  was  the  quick 
reply.  "There  now,  you  ought  to 
see  yourself.  O,  you  are  too  funny 
for  anything,  grandfather,"  and  she 
laughed  so  merrily  that  the  old  man 
had  to  laugh ;  when  just  in  the  midst 
of  the  fun,  in  walked  the  minister  and 
down  dropped  the  bonnet,  which  Rose 
picked  up  and  ran  off  with. 

"  Playing  school,  and  having  to 
wear  the  dunce  cap?"  asked  Mr. 
Lapsley,  with  a  great  deal  of  fun 
in  his  eyes  and  around  his  mouth. 

"About  that,  sir,"  replied^ Jerry. 
"  These  little  folks  have  -  Beat 


4O      The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

way  of  ordering  us  old  ones  around, 
and  somehow  we  take  to  it  very  easy. 
They  have  a  wonderful  coaxing  way 
with  them,  these  children."  Jerry 
seemed  to  think  some  such  explana- 
tion necessary,  after  being  caught  in 
such  an  undignified  performance. 

But  Mr.  Lapsley,  it  is  probable,  had 
often  gone  through  the  same  or  a 
similar  performance,  for  he  said  with 
a  very  significant  nod,  "I  under- 
stand." 


Jerry  s  Story.  41 

CHAPTER  III. 
JERRY'S   STORY. 

|N  Friday,  after  school,  Rose 
nearly  always  went  to  the  par- 
sonage, because  Mrs.  Lapsley  and  her 
grandfather  thought  it  best,  as  on  that 
day  the  boys  came  to  visit  the  old 
man.  They  were  always  respectful, 
and  never  used  coarse  language,  but 
there  was  no  doubt  the  society  of 
Mary  Lapsley  was  much  more  refin- 
ing. 

On   Friday,  too,  Jerry  always   had 

r    -  t 

an  air  01   importance,  or,  to  say   the 


42       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

least,  had  great  satisfaction.  He  \vas 
pleased  to  have  the  boys  seek  his 
society,  and  it  always  took  him  back 
to  his  own  boyhood's  days. 

"So  here  you  are,  all  as  merry 
as  crickets,"  he  called  out,  as  they 
came  bounding  in  one  day.  "Let 
me  see,  have  I  got  the  whole  party  ?" 
and  his  eye  ran  quickly  over  the 
group.  Then  a  shade  passed  over 
his  good-natured  face.  The  boys 
saw  it,  and  winked  at  each  other. 
But  one  of  them,  a  good-hearted 
fellow  named  Amos  King,  said,  "  See 
here,  it's  a  shame,  Jerry's  not  the 
one  to  fool.  We're  all  right,  Jerry. 
Come  in,  Fidler.  You  see  we  made  it 


Jerry  s  Story.  43 

up,  that  we  would  have  some  sport :" 
and  Fidler  walked  in,  evidently  de- 
lighted at  only  being  out  in  the  road, 
instead  of  detained  in  the  school- 
room. 

"That's  the  ticket,  isn't  it  Jerry?" 
asked  one  of  the  party  as  the  old 
smile  came  back  to  the  cobbler's  face 
at  sight  of  Fidler.  "Thought  I  was 
getting  an  extra  pill,  didn't  you  ?"  said 
he,  on  entering,  and  in  his  heart  he 
was  glad  his  conduct  had  been  good 
that  day,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  seeing 
Jerry  so  happy.  "Were  you  ever 
kept  in,  or  flogged,  when  you  were  a 
boy  ?"  asked  one. 

"  I  say,  tell  us  about  some  of  your 


44      TJie  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

scrapes,  Jerry ;  that's  the  kind  of  talk  I 
like,"  said  Fidler  again.  This  was 
hailed  with  delight  by  all  the  rest, 
who  declared  it  "hunky,  jolly,"  and 
all  the  absurd  things  boys  say  when 
they  are  very  much  pleased  and  ex- 
cited. 

"Tell  you  boys  about  some  of  my 
scrapes !  Well  now,  I  would  like  to 
know  how  you  knew  I  ever  got  into 
such  things,"  and  the  old  man  gave  a 
quizzical  look  as  he  pegged  away  at 
his  boot.  "Just  as  if  there  ever  was 
a  fellow  in  the  world  who  didn't 
sometimes  get  into  scrapes,"  and  the 
boys  laughed  at  the  thought. 

"Well,  yes,   I   fear  we   won't   find 


Jerry 's  Story.  45 

many  such,"  said  Jerry.  "And  I  see 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  cheating  you. 
boys,  or  putting  you  off  either,"  as  he 
looked  around  at  them,  they  nodding 
and  winking  as  if  to  say,  "  You're 
right  there,  old  fellow." 

"  But  where  to  begin  about  my 
scrapes  will  not  be  so  easy,  for  I  was 
in  mischief  ever  since  I  can  remember, 
until — well,  until  I  stopped.  When 
that  was,  will  come  in  with  the  story. 

"Story!"  The  boys  drew  in  their 
breath,  eased  themselves  around  so 
that  they  could  see  his  face,  and  in  as 
many  different  ways  as  there  were 
different  boys,  showed  their  interest. 

"  Where  shall  I  begin  ?"  asked  he. 


46       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

"  Begin  when  you  were  born,"  said 
George  Gordon,  "  who  was  readier 
with  his  words  than  with  his  wits," 
the  boys  said. 

There  was  a  general  roar,  and 
Jerry  agreed  with  him  that  that  was 
far  enough  to  go  back,  as  his  memory 
was  not  able  to  carry  him  much 
farther. 

"Well,  when  I  was  born,  I  did  not 
weigh  near  so  much  as  I  do  now; 
indeed,  I  was  rather  a  small  specimen 
of  humanity.  They  hardly  thought  it 
worth  while  to  weigh  me,  so  they 
put  me  in  a  quart  measure,  and  I 
fitted  it  nicely.  It  couldn't  have  been 
skin-tight,  or  they  would  have  had 


Jerry's  Story.  47 

trouble  to  get  me  out.  But  I  wasn't 
'the  little  man,  no  bigger  than  your 
thumb,  who  they  put  in  the  quart  pot, 
and  bade  him  drum/ 

"Well,  as  I  was  saying,  I  was  so 
small  that  no  one  thought  I  would 
be  of  much  consequence  in  the  world, 
and  they  all  agreed  that  I  might  as 
well  die  before  I  gave  any  trouble. 
But  my  mother  thought  if  the  Lord 
chose  to  send  her  such  a  wee  little 
body,  he  meant  her  to  take  good  care 
of  it,  so  she  had  me  wrapped  up  in 
soft  cotton,  and  kept  me  as  warm  as 
toast — the  way  they  wrap  up  little 
young  chickens  sometimes. 

"That   seemed   to   agree  with   my 


48       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

constitution,  and  I  began  to  pick  u.p 
in  the  way  of  flesh  until  I  was  quite 
a  respectable  baby.  In  those  days 
people  did  not  grow  rich  on  their 
children's  misfortunes  and  deformities 
as  they  do  now,  or  my  parents  might 
have  made  a  good-sized  fortune. 

"  So  I  kept  on  growing,  and  I  sup- 
pose doing  my  share  of  kicking  and 
squealing,  until  I  grew  out  of  baby- 
hood. What  I  have  told  you  is  not 
from  memory,  you  know,  but  it  is  just 
what  I  was  told  when  a  boy;  that 
is,  when  I  began  to  get  into  mischief, 
and  came  near  losing  my  life,  my 
mother  told  me  what  a  hard  time  she 
had  raising  me,  and  what  ingratitude 


Jerry's  Story.  49 

to  God  it  would  be  if  I  bid  defiance 
to  Him  by  taking  my  life  in  my  own 
hands  in  that  way." 

"What  did  you  do?"  asked  George, 
ready  as  usual. 

"Well,  the  first  thing  I  remember, 
was  putting  the  cat  into  a  tub  of  scald- 
ing water  to  wash  her;  and,  as  my 
mother  screamed  out  that  I  was  killing 
her,  and  the  poor  cat's  cries  were  so 
piteous,  I  reached  forward  to  take 
her  out,  but  my  hand  and  arm  were 
so  scalded,  that  in  my  pain  and  fright 
I  let  go  my  hold,  and  fell  in  alto- 
gether." 

"O!"  exclaimed  all  the  boys,  and 
George  was  on  the  point  of  asking 


50       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

another  question — probably,  "  Were 
you  killed?" — when  Jerry  proceeded. 

"The  Lord  meant  to  spare  me 
though,  for  my  mother  was  on  the 
spot  at  the  instant,  and  I  was  drawn 
out  regularly  parboiled.  Then,  for 
the  second  time,  they  had  to  put 
me  in  cotton,  but  it  was  not  so  agree- 
able as  at  first;  however,  after  my 
mother  and  all  had  given  me  up,  I 
was  brought  round  by  God  for  some 
wise  purpose ;  though  I  think,  as  time 
went  on,  the  reason  was  a  mystery 
to  my  friends." 

"Did  the  cat  die?"  asked  George. 

"Yes,  poor  thing,  she  died;  she 
had  been  in  too  long  before  they  got 


Jerry  s  Story.  51 

her  out,  for  they  were  so  anxious 
about  me." 

Kind-hearted  Amos  here  expressed 
his  sympathy  with  the  cat,  in  which 
some  of  the  boys  united,  while  others 
laughed  at  the  idea  of  being  sorry 
for  a  cat. 

"  The  heart  that  would  not  be  sorry 
for  the  sufferings  of  the  meanest  thing 
which  God  has  made,  is  not  human," 
said  Jerry,  sharply.  "You  are  right, 
boys,  the  more  helpless  a  thing,  the 
more  it  requires  your  pity." 

"Well?"  said  Fidler. 

"Well,  I  kept  on  growing  more 
and  more  venturesome,  until  my  poor 
mother's  heart  was  almost  broken. 


52       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

She  said  she  never  had  a  moment's 
peace  when  I  was  out  of  her  sight, 
and  when  I  was  with  her,  she  could 
do  nothing  but  watch  me  for  fear  of 
my  getting  into  mischief." 

"  Who  would  have  thought  you 
were  such  a  young  lark?"  said  Fidler, 
glad  that  some  one  else  had  trou- 
bled his  parents,  and  been  a  young 
"scape-grace,"  as  he  was  called. 

"I  paid  dear  for  it  all,  though," 
said  Jerry,  while  the  threads  were 
drawn  out  very  .slowly,  and  he  spoke 
as  if  to  himself — "I  would  give  the 
world,  if  I  had  it,  just  to  have  my 
mother  back  to  tell  her  I  was  sorry, 
.and  ask  her  forgiveness." 


Jerry's  Story.  53 

The  boys  looked  at  one  another, 
and  Fidler  seemed  uncomfortable.  No 
one  questioned  him  then.  Presently 
he  said :  "  Boys,  when  your  mother 
is  gone,  you  have  lost  your  best 
friend.  If  her  commands  do  not  hold 
you,  or  her  love  check  your  wayward- 
ness, then  look  out,  there  are  dark 
days  in  store  for  you,  and  rivers  of 
tears  will  not  wash  out  the  memory 
of  the  grief  you  have  caused  her. 

"  I  never  meant  to  be  cruel  to  my 
mother.  I  thought  she  was  too  strict, 
and  did  not  know  anything  about 
boys,  and  that  she  would  see  I  would 
come  out  all  right  when  I  became 
a  man.  I  was  out  at  night,  because 

5* 


54      The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

all  the  boys  I  knew  were  out,  and  that 
was  the  time  for  the  greatest  sport, 
I  thought.  My  mother  knew  it,  and 
urged  and  entreated  me  to  stay  in  at 
night,  but  she  did  not  dare  to  tell  my 
father,  who  \vas  very  strict  about  these 
things,  and  whose  punishments  were 
always  severe. 

"I  was  encouraged  by  this,  and 
so  took  advantage  of  my  mother's 
kindness,  and  \vent  on  as  before. 
Many  a  time  she  never  closed  her 
eyes  until  midnight,  waiting  for  me 
to  come  home,  so  that  she  might 
let  me  in  without  my  father  hearing 
me. 

"I   had  fallen   in  with   a   party  of 


Jerry's  Story.  55 

bad  boys,  who  taught  me  card-play- 
ing and  smoking,  and  who  from  beer- 
drinking  would  have  led  me  on  to 
drink  brandy  also,  had  not  my  father, 
who  was  compelled  to  be  out  late 
one  night,  met  me  at  the  door.  Find- 
ing from  my  breath  that  I  had  been 
drinking,  he  accused  me  of  it,  and  I, 
after  trying  to  deceive  him,  told  him 
it  was  only  beer. 

"He  said  no  more,  but  the  next 
day  he  ordered  a  quart  of  beer,  and 
insisted  upon  me  drinking  the  greater 
part  of  it.  I  did  not  want  it  then, 
but  I  had  to  take  it,  and  that  was 
the  last  drop  of  beer  that  ever  went 
into  my  lips.  You  see,  it  came  near 


56       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

taking  my  life.  I  always  thought  he 
put  something  in  it  to  sicken  me ;  but 
however  it  was,  I  never  want  to  be 
sicker  than  I  was  that  day. 

"  My  mother  cried  and  wrung  her 
hands,  saying  I  would  die,  and  begged 
my  father  to  let  her  do  something 
for  me ;  but  no,  he  said  he  would 
give  me  enough  of  beer,  if  I  liked  it." 

"He  was  an  old — heathen ;  what 
did  he  treat  your  mother  that  way 
for?"  said  Fidler,  looking  as  if  he 
would  like  to  have  the  old  gentleman 
there  to  pound. 

"His  treatment  was  kind,  com- 
pared to  mine,"  replied  Jerry;  "be- 
sides, he  whispered  something  to  her 


Jerry  s  Story.  57 

that  removed  all  her  fears,  and  she 
went  cut  of  the  room. 

"  I  did  very  little  at  school  in  those 
days  by  way  of  study,  but  I  always 
had  friends  among  the  boys,  and  in 
examination  they  helped  me,  so  that 
I  seemed  to  keep  up  with  the  rest. 
But  I  was  in  disgrace  very  often, 
by  being  kept  in  for  neglected  les- 
sons, and  gave  my  teachers  a  great 
deal  of  trouble.  One  day  I  was  kept 
in,  to  work  out  my  examples  in  arith- 
metic, and  being  in  a  sullen  mood, 
I  sat  for  some  time  leaning  over  my 
desk,  with  my  head  in  my  hands. 
Growing  tired  of  this,  I  raised  my 
head  and  saw,  right  beside  me,  on 


58       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

the  adjoining  desk,  a  slate  with  the 
very  figures  that  I  needed. 

"I  was  very  hungry,  and  tired  of 
being  in  school  so  long,  here  was 
a  good  chance  to  get  away ;  so, 
quietly  drawing  the  slate  over,  and 
putting  my  own  in  its  place,  I  rubbed 
out  a  figure  at  a  time,  then  made  it 
over,  until  in  a  few  minutes  the  work 
was  done,  and  I  was  at  liberty. 

"I  was  now  free  from  all  but  my 
thoughts,  but,  do  as  I  would,  I  could 
not  rid  myself  of  them.  I  whistled, 
I  sang,  I  ran,  then  I  walked  slow, 
but  all  this  time  something  said, 
'Jerry  Haslin,  you  are  a.  thief.  A 
boy  who  would  do  that,  would  do 


Jerry's  Story.  59 

a  great  deal  worse  if  he  only  had  a 
chance." 

"That  afternoon,  I  thought  I  would 
ease  my  conscience  by  telling  the 
owner  of  the  slate  what  I  had  done, 
but  he  only  laughed,  and  called  me 
*  green,'  He  said  I  would  have  been 
worse  than  a  fool  not  to  have  taken 
the  slate;  so  I  thought  too,  and 
always  after  that  I  helped  myself  in 
the  same  way  when  I  could  get  an 
opportunity. 

"But  I  can't  tell  you  the  rest  to- 
day ;  next  Friday,  if  you  are  all  here, 
I  will  give  you  the  other  chapter. 
Mind,  if  there  is  a  boy  away,  I  won't 
finish." 


60       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

"  Couldn't  you  tell  us  just  a  little 
more  now?"  pleaded  several  voices. 

"No,  that  would  spoil  the  next 
chapter.  See,  here  comes  my  little 
Rose,  and  that  is  a  sign  that  it  is 
supper-time.  So,  home  to  your  mo- 
thers, boys,  and  see  how  you  can 
keep  their  eyes  and  their  hearts 
dancing  with  happiness  all  the  week. 


"Little   Wife"   Goes  Away.      61 


CHAPTER  IV. 
JERRY'S  "LITTLE  WIFE"  GOES  AWAY. 

|S  the  boys  passed  Rose  in  the 
road,  Howard  Hutchens  took 
off  his  hat,  while  the  rest  only  nodded, 
or  made  funny  speeches. 

"I  say,  look  at  Hutchens,"  said 
Fidler,  quite  amused  at  the  gallantry 
of  the  latter.  "Didn't  he  do  that 
in  style  ?  Practicing  for  Sunday,  you 
see." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  How- 
ard, his  face  flushing  as  he  spoke. 


62       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

"  Nothing,  only  when  Sunday  comes, 
then  we  see  somebody,  and  of  course 
we  have  to  take  off  our  hat  to  her, 
so  it's  all  right  to  try  it  through  the 
week,  it  comes  easier  then." 

"You're  a  big  simpleton,  Fidler;" 
but  this  time  Howard  looked  rather 
pleased.  "  My  mother  says  that  you 
should  never  pass  a  lady  whom  you 
know,  or  a  gentleman  either,  without 
bowing." 

"Don't  every  one  know  that  as 
well  as  you  ?  But  Rose  Ralston  is 
not  a  lady  or  a  gentleman  either." 

"  It  is  the  same  thing,  she  is  a  little 
girl,  and  will  be  a  lady  some  time. 
My  mother  says  a  true  gentleman 


"Little   Wife"   Goes  Away.      63 

will  be  as  polite  to  a  child  as  to 
a  grown  person.  And  I  think  it  is 
just  as  easy  to  bow,  as  to  say,  ' How 
do  you  do.' " 

In  the  meantime,  Rose,  who  could 
not  have  told  whether  all  the  boys 
or  only  one  boy  bowed,  had  reached 
the  house,  and  taken  her  seat  by 
her  grandfather's  side.  That  was  the 
place  always  when  she. had  anything 
to  say. 

"  O,  grandfather !  just  guess  what 
Mrs.  Lapsley  says.  She  is  going  to 
take  Mary  ever  so  far  away  in  a  boat, 
and  in  the  cars,  and  she  says  I  may 
go,  if  you  will  let  me.  Mary  says 
it  is  the  nicest  place  in  the  whole 


64      Ttie  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

world,  and  that  we  won't  have  any- 
thing to  do  but  play." 

"Then  I  think  I  would  go,  if  it  is 
to  be  so  nice,"  said  her  grandfather, 
smiling  at  the  eager  face  looking  up 
to  his. 

"  Mary  says  we  can  catch  fishes, 
and  have  as  many  good  things  to 
eat  as  we  want.  Mustn't  it  be  splen- 
did, grandfather  ?  Don't  you  wish  we 
lived  there?" 

"  Splendid !  I  guess  it  must  be ;  it 
makes  my  mouth  water  to  think  of 
it.  I  suppose  you  won't  want  to 
come  home  at  all.  But  as  sure  as 
you  don't,  I'll  get  another  wee  wife ; 
for  I  couldn't  get  along  without  some 


"Little   Wife"  Goes  Away.      65 

one  to  wash  the  dishes  and  cook  the 
dinner,  you  know.  So  you  had  better 
not  like  the  place  too  well." 

"  But  who  will  be  the  mother  when 
I'm  away  ?  You  won't  have  anybody 
to  stay  with  you."  Here  Rose  looked 
very  much  as  if  she  had  taken  leave 
forever  of  the  old  man,  and  never 
meant  to  smile  again. 

"  O,  that  will  be  all  right.  Mother 
Lober  will  fix  up  and  be  mother  for 
me  until  you  come  back.  But  maybe 
you  didn't  mean  to  come  back,  but  to 
stay,  and  not  have  any  work  to  do." 

"  Now  grandfather,  I'll  cry  if  you 
talk  that  way;  you  know  I'll  never, 
never,  never  go  away  to  stay  from 


66       TJie  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

you.  Would  you  go  with  Mary  if 
you  were  a  little  girl  like  me?" 

"Indeed  I  would,  and  have  a  real 
funny  time  of  it,  so  now  let  us  have 
supper,  mother,  and  then  we  can  talk 
more  about  this  nice  place." 

After  tea,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lapsley 
walked  over  to  see  Jerry,  and  explain 
all  about  the  visit.  It  was  to  an  old 
aunt  of  Mrs.  Lapsley,  living  eighty 
miles  distant,  in  a  beautiful  part  of 
country,  among  the  mountains.  They 
were  to  be  gone  four  weeks,  and  Mrs. 
Lapsley  asked  the  old  man  whether 
he  could  spare  Rose  for  so  long  a 
time. 

Coming  quietly  over  until  she  was 


"Little   Wife"  Goes  Away.      67 

quite  close  beside  him,  Rose  listened 
eagerly  for  his  reply.  She  had  never 
been  from  home  a  day,  except  to  visit 
her  friend  Mary,  and  now  her  heart 
was  full  of  a  new  joy  at  thought  of 
the  delightful  times  she  was  to  have. 

When  her  kind  grandfather  said 
he  could  spare  her,  if  she  promised 
not  to  stay  too  long,  and  that  he 
would  sing,  whistle,  and  stitch  away 
harder  than  ever,  to  keep  himself  and 
the  kitten  company,  her  joy  would  not 
stay  in  her  heart  only,  but  beamed 
from  her  eyes,  and  made  her  hands 
clap  together,  until  she  seemed  almost 
beside  herself  with  gladness. 

Then,  as  too  much  joy  cheats  little 


68       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

folks  out  of  their  sweet  refreshing 
sleep,  and  makes  them  dull,  instead 
of  bright  and  cheerful  in  the  morning, 
Rose  went  to  bed.  As  she  kissed 
her  grandfather  and  Mrs.  Lapsley, 
she  looked  timidly  at  the  minister. 
He  had  often  patted  her  on  the  head, 
and  called  her  Moss  Rose,  but  had 
never  kissed  her.  But  to  night,  he 
had  prayed  for  her,  and  asked  God 
to  make  her  always  in  character  as 
beautiful,  and  in  heart  as  fresh,  as 
the  flower  whose  name  she  bore. 

Rose  knew  what  that  meant,  for 
her  grandfather  had  often  told  her 
about  good  and  lovely  people,  so 
going  up  to  the  kind  minister,  who 


. 


"Little   Wife'  Goes  Away.      69 

smiled  and  held  out  his  hand  to  her, 
she  raised  her  blushing  face  for  a 
kiss. 

Nothing  could  have  pleased  Mr. 
Lapsley  more,  and  drawing  her  to 
him,  he  put  his  arm  around  her  and 
kissed  her.  He  held  her  close  to  him 
and  laying  his  hand  on  her  shoulder, 
said :  "  What  will  Rose  have  to  thank 
her  Heavenly  Father  for,  to  night  ?" 

"For  my  grandfather,"  she  replied 
quickly,  looking  over  with  a  bright 
smile  to  the  old  man,  who  had  laid 
down  his  work  out  of  compliment  to 
Mrs.  Lapsley. 

"And  what  else ?" 

"For    kind   friends," — part    of    the 


70       The   Cobbler  a/id  his  Rose. 

prayer  her  grandfather  had  taught 
her.  As  she  said  this,  her  looks 
showed  who  were  meant  by  kind 
friends,  and  the  minister  and  his  wife 
smiled. 

"  Is  there  nothing  else  ?" 

"  I  will  thank  Him  that  I  am  going 
to  such  a  beautiful  place  with  Mary. 

"And  that  is  all,  is  it?"  He  was 
going  to  speak,  but  Rose  suddenly 
cried  out,  "O  no,  sir,  there  is  some- 
thing better  than  all  that.  I  thank 
Him  for  his  love  to  me,  that  He  sent 
the  Saviour  Jesus  to  die  for  me.  I 
know  a  little  hymn,  shall  I  say  it  ?" 

Mr.  Lapsley  assented,  and  slowly, 
but  with  earnestness,  she  repeated: 


"Little   Wife'   Goes  Away.      71 

"I'm  a  little  pilgrim 

On  my  heavenward  way; 
Jesus  walks  beside  me. 

For  fear  that  I  should  stray. 


"When  I  have  a  sorrow, 

Or  when  I  feel  a  fear, 
He  puts  His  arms  around  me, 
And  whispers,  'I  am  near.' 

"So,  I'll  draw  up  closer, 

And  let  Him  take  my  hand; 
And  safe  through  the  journey, 
He'll  bring  me  to  that  land. 

"Then  I'll  sit  beside  Him, 

And  look  into  His  face ; 
And  O,  how  I'll  love  Him 
For  His  redeeming  grace!" 


72       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

"And  a  sweet  little  hymn  it  is,"  he 
said,  kissing  her  again  ;  "  but  it  is  time 
the  little  pilgrim  was  on  her  way 
to  bed." 

"  It  is  no  wonder  you  are  so  fond 
of  the  child,"  he  remarked,  as  she 
skipped  away  to  her  little  room. 
Jerry  made  no  reply,  but  a  mist  came 
over  his  spectacles,  and  he  wiped 
them  with  his  sleeve. 

After  a  few  minutes,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Lapsley  went  home,  having  settled 
that  the  old  man  was  to  give  up  his 
housekeeper  the  next  week. 

And  O,  how  the  time  did  fly !  Be- 
fore he  could  think  almost,  they  were 
gone,  and  he  left  in  charge  of  the 


"Little    Wife'   Goes  Away.      73 

kitten.  For  that  had  been  a  special 
charge,  he  must  be  sure  to  give  it  its 
saucer  of  milk,  and  see  that  it  was 
put  in  bed. 

"And  what  about  Jim  Crow's  going 
out?  Where  is  his  bonnet?  for  I 
suppose  he  must  be  carried  out  as 
usual,"  said  Jerry,  after  she  had  given 
her  orders. 

How  Rose  laughed  at  the  idea  of 
her  grandfather  carrying  Jim  Crow 
out.  "  O,  it  is  too  funny  !  how  I  wish 
you  would  take  him  before  I  go ;  I 
want  to  see  how  you  look:"  all  the 
time  laughing  her  merry  little  laugh 
as  she  spoke.  But  Jerry  was  not 
going  to  take  any  charge  of  the  kitten 


74       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

until  she  went,  so  all  she  could  do 
was  to  repeat  her  orders  about  the 
care  he  was  to  take  of  it. 

"You  will  just  have  to  let  Jim  Crow 
run  about  the  yard,  grandfather,  for  I 
am  going  to  take  his  bonnet  for  Mary's 
doll;  she  says  when  people  go  visiting 
they  take  their  best  clothes,  and  her 
doll's  bonnet  is  not  as  nice  as  the 
kitten's." 

"  Very  well,"  said  grandfather,  and 
so,  after  any  number  of  hugs  and 
kisses,  the  stage  drove  up  in  which 
were  Mrs,  Lapsley  and  Mary.  Rose's 
little  trunk  was  put  in  it,  and  then 
she  was  lifted  up ;  the  driver  said, 
"Get  up,  Tom,"  as  he  cracked  his 


"Little    Wife"  Goes  Away.       75 

whip  over  the  horses'  heads,  and 
although  only  Tom  had  been  invited 
to  go  on,  the  whip  set  both  in  motion, 
and  the  stage  was  off. 

Jerry  stood  at  the  gate,  nodding 
and  smiling,  while  Rose  threw  kisses 
at  him,  and  called  out,  "good-by,"  as 
far  as  she  could  see  him,  then  he 
went  slowly  back  to  his  work.  Some- 
thing said,  "Suppose  anything  should 
happen,  and  you  would  never  see 
Rose  again."  It  brought  the  tears 
to  his  eyes,  for  they  did  not  want 
much  coaxing,  they  were  quite  ready 
to  start.  But  the  next  minute  he  said 
aloud,  "I'm  not  going  to  take  her 
out  of  God's  hands  in  that  way,  think- 


76       The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

ino-  about  accidents  and  all  them  kind 

o 

of  things.  I  couldn't  do  as  well  by 
her  as  He  will  do,  and  He  can  keep 
the  cars  from  going  off  the  track, 
or  the  boat  from  sinking,  just  as  easy 
as  I  can  mend  a  shoe." 

Then  going  into  his  little  bed-room, 
he  thanked  G.od  for  the  great  treasure 
he  had  in  his  Grandchild,  and  asked 

o 

Him  to  keep  that  treasure  for  him, 
and  to  make  him  more  worthy  of  the 
gift.  "  Keep  her  young  heart,"  he 
added,  "and  may  my  blossom  come 
back  as  sweet  and  fresh  as  when  she 
went  away,  to  gladden  once  more  my 
dim  old  eyes." 

After   that,   he  whistled  and   sang, 


"Little   Wife'  Goes  Away.       77 

stitched  faster,  and  took  care  of  Jim 
Crow  as  he  had  promised,  thinking 
constantly  of  Rose,  and  fancying  her 
at  her  plays,  but  no  thought  or  fear 
of  evil  came  to  him. 

Now  Rose  would  have  laughed  her- 
self if  she  had  seen  how  faithfully  he 
attended  her  kitten ;  several  times  a 
day  he  had  to*  get  up  and  look  round 
for  it  for  fear  it  would  wander  off  in 
search  of  its  mistress  and  be  lost. 
But  if  he  had  known,  he  might  have 
saved  himself  all  that  trouble,  for  Jim 
Crow  was  in  the  full  enjoyment  of 
his  freedom ;  scampering  through  the 
grass,  running  after  shadows,  darting 
in  and  out  through  fences,  and  having 


78       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

a  good  time  pretending  he  was  a 
squirrel  and  climbing  the  trees. 

He  got  such  a  great  dinner  and 
supper  the  first  day,  that  it  made 
him  sick ;  and  after  that,  although 
Jerry  worried  and  wondered  what 
had  come  over  the  kitten,  and  really 
nursed  it  one  or  two  nights  before 
putting  it  to  bed,  Jim  Crow  would 
never  consent  to  eat  so  much  again. 
You  would  not  catch  him  eating 
so  much  dinner  that  he  would  have 
to  lie  still  all  afternoon ;  he  liked  fun 
too  well  for  all  that ;  so  no  coaxing 
could  make  him  take  more  than  his 
saucer  of  milk. 

Jerry  felt  that  a  great  responsibility 


"Little   Wife"  Goes  Away.       79 

rested  on  him,  for  if  anything  hap- 
pened to  Jim  Crow,  he  did  not  know 
what  he  should  do,  so  he  called  the 
attention  of  Mother  Lober  to  the 
ailing  one,  as  he  supposed,  and  she 
gave  it  a  little  catnip  tea,  as  Jim  Crow 
only  sniffed  at  the  leaves  and  would 
not  touch  them,  and  a  hard  time  they 
had  to  get  him  to  take  that. 

First,  Jerry  spread  out  his  leather 
apron  and  set  him  on  it,  then  he 
opened  his  mouth  while  Mother  Lober 
poured  the  tea  in.  Jim  scratched  and 
shook  his  head,  and  shut  his  white 
little  teeth;  but  there  was  no  help 
for  him,  the  spoon  was  thrust  be- 
tween them,  and  the  nasty  stuff  poured 


8o       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

down.  Didn't  he  run  when  it  was 
over?  His  little  heart  beat  like  the 
blacksmith's  hammer,  and  he  had 
half  a  mind  not  to  venture  in  the 
house  that  night  for  fear  of  another 
dose.  It  was  a  great  deal  worse  than 
having  a  bonnet  tried  on,  or  even 
being  dressed  in  flowers  and  feathers, 
and  that  was  bad  enough. 

But  Jerry  \vas  satisfied ;  Mother 
Lober  said  that  was  what  he  needed, 
and  it  did  seem  to  the  old  man  that 
the  tonic  had  been  of  use.  At  any 
rate  Jim  Crow  was  let  alone,  to  his 
great  joy. 


Jerrys  "Other  Chapter''        Si 

CHAPTER  V. 
WHICH  is  JERRY'S  "OTHER  CHAPTER." 

fefa°£|||N  THEY  came  with  a  rush,  all 
gfrsLBal  the  boys  but  Fidler.  "We  are 
not  fooling  you  this  time,"  they  ex- 
claimed; "he  has  just  gone  and  had 
himself  kept  in.  We  told  him  how  it 
would  be,  that  you  said  you  wouldn't 
tell  us  unless  every  one  was  here,  and 
he  said  he  would  be  all  right.  It's  a 
real  shame  to  cheat  the  rest  of  us. 
Look  here,  Jerry,  won't  you  go  on 
with  it?  we  ought  to  have  a  reward 
for  being  good  fellows." 


82       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

"That's  so,"  said  Jerry,  looking 
kindly  at  them  as  they  gathered 
around  him.  "  But  haven't  you  got 
a  reward  already?  Haven't  you  a 
more  manly  feeling  than  if  you  had 
been  deserving  of  punishment?  I'll 
venture  to  say,  that  poor  fellow  in 
school  has  not  your  bright  eyes,  or 
your  happiness  of  heart.  No,  no, 
boys,  the  consciousness  of  doing  right 
or  wrong  is  our  greatest  reward  or 
punishment.  If  we  are  true  to  our 
better  nature,  a  chord  is  touched  that 
gives  out  music,  that  makes  glad  and 
uplifts  the  soul ;  but  if  we  play  false, 
there  is  a  jarring  and  discord  within, 
that  brings  only  dissatisfaction  and 


Jerrys  "Other  Chapter:'        83 

regret.  So,  you  see,  you  are  already 
paid  for  your  good  conduct." 

"But  don't  you  mean  to  tell  us 
after  all?"  they  asked,  in  tones  of 
disappointment. 

"O  yes,  you  must  have  the  story, 
you  deserve  it,  and  a  much  better 
one.  But  do  you  think  now  you 
could  enjoy  it  as  well  as  if  he  were 
here?  I  am  afraid  I  could'nt  give 
it  to  you  right,  if  I  missed  one  pair 
of  eyes." 

He  watched  all  their  faces  as  he 
said  this,  but  no  one  spoke.  With  all 
his  faults,  they  liked  Fidler,  and  did 
really  want  him  to  hear  it  as  well  as 
they;  but  it  was  so  hard  to  wait 


84       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

another  week,  when  they  would  have 
heard  it  to-day  only  for  him. 

"Suppose  now,  as  my  little  house- 
keeper is  gone,  and  there  is  no  one 
here  but  me  and  Jim  Crow,  you  ask 
your  mothers  to  let  you  come  around 
after  supper  time,  and  bring  Fidler 
along ;  how  would  that  do  ?" 

"That  is  the  ticket — good  for  you, 
Jerry,"  and  similar  expressions,  gave 
the  old  man  to  understand  that  his 
plan  met  with  their  approval. 

When  they  had  gone  he  began  to 
think  about  Fidler.  "Just  such  an- 
other," he  said.  He  is  getting  further 
and  further  out  to  sea,  and  if  some- 
thing is  not  done  soon,  will  be  dashed 


Jerrys  "Other  Chapter''        85 

to  pieces  among  the  breakers.  He  is 
headstrong,  that  is  it,  and  with  all  the 
ropes  they  may  put  around  him  to 
draw  him  straight,  he  will  pull  in  the 
other  direction  and  have  his  own  way. 
If  it  could  be  mine  to  help  him ;  to  get 
the  tangle  out  of  him ;  for  he  seems 
like  a  tangled  thread,  that  the  more 
you  try  to  undo,  gets  the  more  knot- 
ted. But  it  is  knot  at  a  time,  and  snarl 
after  snarl,  until  all  is  smooth  and 
straight.  If  I  could  find  the  right  end, 
God  could  give  me  the  patience  and 
the  understanding.  But  how  I  talk ; 
can't  He  show  me  the  right  end  too." 
So  remembering  his  own  boyhood, 
he  went  again  into  his  little  room  and 


86       Tlie  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

there  talked  to  God.  But  this  time 
it  was  not  about  Rose. 

When  he  came  out,  he  said :  "  I'll 
try  it,  it  must  have  been  put  into 
my  heart,  and  if  He  put  it  there,  He 
will  surely  bring  good  out  of  it." 
Then  he  and  Jim  Crow  had  their 
supper ;  after  that  he  began  to  watch 
for  the  boys. 

Fidler  was  with  them  this  time,  but 
he  had  not  much  to  say,  and  Jerry 
very  wisely  did  not  notice  him  in  par- 
ticular. 

"  Now  for  the  other  chapter,  boys," 
he  said  when  all  were  seated.  Fidler 
had  gotten  into  a  corner,  and  taken 
up  Jim  Crow,  which  Jerry  had  for- 


Jerrys  "Other  Chapter"        87 

gotten  to  put  to  bed,  in  his  anxiety 
about  the  boy. 

"  Well,  I  left  off,  let  me  see — where 
was  it?" 

"When  you  went  to  school,  and 
played  cheat,"  spoke  up  George 
Gordon. 

"Just  so.  Well  I  would  like  to 
stop  there,  for  the  rest  is  not  very 
pleasant  to  look  back  upon,  but  I 
must  keep  my  promise.  I  copied  my 
sums  whenever  I  could  get  a  chance, 
and  idled  away  my  time  until  at  last 
the  teachers  were  so  vexed  with  my 
conduct,  they  sent  me  home.  And 
what  was  a  great  deal  worse  to  me, 
they  sent  a  note  to  my  father,  for 


88       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

some  of  the  boys  had  told  them  my 
mother  could  do  nothing1  with  me. 
Then  I  got  a  terrible  flogging,  and 
was  told  I  should  go  back  the  next 
day  and  ask  pardon  for  my  mis- 
conduct. I  made  no  reply  to  this,  for 
every  stroke  seemed  to  harden  my 
heart  still  more.  But  I  said  to 
myself — "  You  will  see  if  I  do  any 
such  thing. 

"That  night  I  went  to  bed  early, 
with  a  heart  full  of  evil  passions.  I 
would  be  revenged  on' my  father,  and 
he  should  not  control  me  any  longer. 
My  mother  came  up,  looking  as  if 
she  had  passed  through  some  great 
sickness.  O,  I  wish  I  did  not  always 


Jerrys  "Other  Chapter"        89 

see  her  face  when  I  think  of  that- 
night  !  She  came  over  to  my  bed, 
and  stooping  down,  kissed  me,  call- 
ing me  her  boy,  and  telling  me  how 
she  prayed  that  God  would  help  me 
to  subdue  my  evil  nature,  and  be 
a  comfort  to  her  now  in  her  middle 


"  How  she  talked  to  me  and  cried, 
but  I  did  not  shed  a  tear.  She  knelt 
down  by  my  side  before  leaving  the 
room,  and  prayed  a  prayer  that  went 
right  up  to  heaven,  and  God  answered 
it  in  His  great  goodness,  but  she 
did  not  see  the  answer.  I  don't  know 
how  I  did  it,  but  when  she  left  the 
room,  I  got  up,  and  rolling  together 


go       The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

a  few  clothes,  I  crept  down  stairs,  and 
went  out  from  the  care  and  protection 
of  my  parents.  I  walked  miles  until  I 
came  to  the  country,  and  there  I  got 
work  at  weeding  gardens  and  doing 
little  things  about.  But  that  did  not 
satisfy  me,  and  as  I  had  read  glowing 
accounts  of  a  sailor's  life,  I  thought 
if  I  could  only  get  on  board  a  vessel 
I  would  be  all  right. 

"After  working  here  and  there,  and 
making  inquiry,  I  fell  in  with  a  boy, 
who,  like  myself,  was  dissatisfied  with 
home  and  parental  restraint.  So  we 
agreed  to  go  to  sea  together.  We 
had  to  hide  through  the  day 'time,  and 
travel  at  night,  until  we  were  almost 


Jerry s  "Other  Chapter"        gi 

starved,  for  the  boy's  parents  were  in 
hot  pursuit  of  him ;  but  he  had  taken 
some  money  from  home,  so  that  we 
bought  a  little  to  eat,  and  often  bribed 
other  boys  with  a  trifle,  to  keep  them 
from  telling  of  our  hiding-place,  or 
to  have  them  put  us  on  the  right  road. 
At  last  we  found  a  vessel  bound  for 
the  West  Indies,  and  without  asking 
any  questions,  we  entered  upon  a 
sailor's  life. 

"For  a  day  or  so,  we  thought  we 
were  most  fortunate,  having  little  to 
do,  and  congratulated  ourselves  that 
our  troubles  were  all  over.  But  soon 
the  sailors,  and  even  the  captain, 
began  to  show  their  true  colors,  and 


92       The  Cobbler  and  Ids  Rose. 

we  were  cuffed  and  knocked  about 
like  dogs,  because  we  were  slow  in 
obeying  orders. 

"  Sometimes  I  was  ordered  to  climb 
the  mast  when  I  was  scarcely  able 
to  crawl  from  sea-sickness.  Indeed 
I  was  sick  all  the  voyage.  But  al- 
though I  -expected  every  minute  to 
fall  headlong  into  the  sea,  there  was 
no  help  for  me,  go  I  must.  Then  I 
was  beaten  unmercifully  by  the  sailors 
because  I  would  not  drink  their  grog. 
I  do  believe  if  they  had  killed  me  I 
would  rather  have  died  than  take  it, 
after  what  I  had  suffered  from  beer- 
drinking.  But  the  Lord  cared  for 
me,  though  I  did  not  think  of  Him, 


Jerry  s  "Other  Chapter."        93 

and  at  last  we  reached  the  island  of 
Cuba  and  landed  at  Havana.  I  meant 
to  leave  the  vessel  there,  thinking  it 
would  be  very  easy  to  make  my 
escape,  but  the  long  sea-sickness, 
cruel  treatment,  and  now  the  intol- 
erable heat  of  the  place,  took  away 
my  courage  and  what  little  strength 
I  had.  By  the  time  we  were  ready 
to  sail,  however,  I  was  stronger,  but 
so  well  watched,  that  I  thought  best 
not  to  make  the  attempt  to  run  away. 
I  resolved,  however,  that  that  should 
be  my  last  voyage. 

"And  so  it  was.  'A  life  on  the 
ocean  wave'  was  not  what  I  had 
pictured  it,  and  disgusted  with  the 


94       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

ship,  and  all  on  board,  I  made  my 
escape  as  soon  as  ever  we  landed. 
I  did  not  dare  to  go  home  for  fear 
of  my  father,  but  by  this  time  I  would 
have  given  anything  for  a  sight  of  my 
mother's  face,  or  to  have  had  her  kiss 
me,  as  she  did  on  that  last  night.  I 
could  not  go  about  in  my  sailor's 
clothes  for  fear  of  being  sent  back, 
so  I  exchanged  with  a  pawnbroker 
for  an  old  suit. 

"I  knew  that  I  must  get  work  or 
starve,  yet  something  kept  me  about 
the  town.  I  thought  perhaps  I  might 
get  a  glimpse  of  my  mother.  Just  as 
I  had  despaired  of  this,  and  made  up 
my  mind  to  leave  and  try  the  country 


Jerry's  "Other  Chapter''        95 

again,  I  met  a  school-mate.  When  I 
saw  him  I  attempted  to  run,  but  he 
overtook  me  and  would  make  me  tell 
him  where  I  had  been.  Then  he 
looked  so  strangely  that  I  got  fright- 
ened. I  was  sure  something  had 
happened  at  home.  I  was  afraid  to 
ask  him  though. 

"He  asked  me  if  I  was  going 
home,  and  I  said,  No,  I  was  afraid 
of  my  father.  But  he  told  me  he 
did  not  think  my  father  would  be 
angry  now — and  he  stopped  and 
looked  queer.  I  felt  as  if  I  would 
choke,  but  I  said,  Why  won't  he, 
Sam? 

"  Then  he  told  me  that  my  mother 


g6       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

made  him  promise,  before  she  died, 
that  he  would  forgive  me,  and  that 
she  forgave  me,  and  left  a  letter  for 
me,  for  she  said  she  knew  I  would  be 
back  again. 

"O  boys,  I  hope  none  of  you  will 
ever  suffer  as  I  did  that  day.  I  felt 
like  Cain  when  he  had  murdered  his 
brother  Abel,  and  it  seemed  as  if 
every  one  must  know  I  was  a  mur- 
derer. 

"What  will  you  do?"  asked  Sam, 
looking  very  sorry. 

"I  don't  know,  I  said.  O,  I  wish 
I  was  dead,  Sam,  I  have  killed  my 
poor  dear  mother,  and  then  I  began 
to  cry,  and  Sam  cried  too.  He  had 


Jerry s  "Other  Chapter''        97 

pulled  me  away  into  a  corner,  so  that 
the  passers-by  did  not  notice  us. 

"Go  home,  Jerry,  you  had  better, 
he  said.  I  am  awful  sorry  for  you." 
Then  when  I  told  him  I  couldn't,  he 
asked  me  to  go  to  his  house.  But 
I  was  afraid  to  go  there,  thinking 
I  might  meet  my  father,  and  now 
I  could  not  bear  to  have  him  see 
such  a  bad,  wicked  boy.  I  thought 
he  must  hate  me,  even  though  he 
had  promised  my  dear  mother  to 
forgive  me. 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  I  will  go  away  where 
no  one  knows  me,  and  try  to  be  a 
better  boy. 

"Shall    I    tell    my   mother   I    saw 


98       The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

you?"  he  asked.  "She  is  good  like 
your  mother,  Jerry,  and  will  pray  for 
you.  That  will  help  to  make  you 
better." 

"  So  I  told  him  he  might,  and 
promised  to  write  and  tell  him  how 
I  was  getting  along.  He  had  some 
pocket-money,  which  he  gave  me, 
then  we  shook  hands  and  separated. 
There  is  not  much  more,  or  there 
is  more  than  I  can  tell  you  now.  I 
got  work  with  a  man  who  farmed 
in  summer,  and  made  shoes  in  winter, 
and  that  was  how  I  learned  my  trade. 

"Then  I  thought  I  must  see  my 
father,  and  have  his  forgiveness,  so 
I  wrote  to  Sam  that  I  thought  of 


Jerry s  "Other  Chapter"        99 

coming  home  again.  But  he  said 
my  father  had  left  the  place,  never 
expecting  to  find  me.  He  had  left 
my  mother's  letter  though,  with  the 
old  minister,  so  that  if  I  did  ever 
go  back,  as  my  mother  said,  I  could 
get  it. 

"I  was  not  long  in  going  for  the 
letter,  and  that  letter,  dear  boys,  was 
more  to  me  than  millions  of  dollars. 
Through  God's  grace,  it  made  me 
the  man  I  am,  and  while  it  caused 
me  to  shed  bitter,  bitter  tears,  my 
heart  was  ever  afterwards  soft.  For 
it  gave  me  such  a  knowledge  of 
my  mother's  love  for  me  her  way- 
ward boy,  and  then  showed  me  how 


ioo     77/6'   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

much  greater  my  Heavenly  Father's 
was,  that  I  could  not  help  feeling 
my  ingratitude  and  resolving  that  I 
would  try  to  live  as  God  and  my 
sainted  mother  would  have  me  live. 

"  I  never  once  heard  of  my  father, 
though  I  tried  every  way  to  gain 
some  intelligence  of  him.  That  is 
all,  boys,  it  has  been  a  sad  story ; 
I  hope  none  of  you  will  ever  have 
such  a  sad  one  to  tell." 

All  the  time  Jerry  had  been  speak- 
ing, there  had  not  been  a  word 
spoken  by  the  boys,  but  the  drops 
that  fell  on  cheeks  and  hands  showed 
they  had  not  listened  unmoved.  Jim 
Crow  imVht  have  thought  he  was 

o  o 


Jerry s  "Other  Chapter''       101 

caught  in  an  April  shower,  from  the 
way  his  soft  fur  was  sprinkled  over 
with  Fidler's  tears ;  but  Jim  Crow 
was  fast  asleep,  dreaming  of  climbing 
trees,  or  playing  with  the  shadows, 
perhaps.  You  see,  Fidler  was  in  a 
corner  and  could  cry  without  being 
seen.  But  I  question  whether  the 
boys  would  have  seen  him  if  he  had 
been  sitting  in  the  centre  of  the  room. 
Each  one  found  enough  to  do,  think- 
ing of  himself,  and  of  the  awful  sorrow 
Jerry  must  have  felt  when  he  broke 
his  mother's  heart  by  his  bad  conduct. 
They  were  still  quiet  as  they  got 
up  to  go  home ;  even  George  Gordon 
had  no  questions  to  ask.  As  Fidler 

9* 


1O2     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

passed  Jerry,  the  old  man  whispered, 
"  Come  around  by  yourself  to-morrow, 
I  want  to  show  you  her  letter." 

He  nodded  assent,  brushed  through 
the  group  who  stood  at  the  door,  and 
went  home  alone. 


What  Rose  Did.  103 


CHAPTER  VI. 

WHAT    ROSE   DID   AT   AUNT   BETSY'S. 

|T  LAST  the  day  came  for  Jerry 
to  have  back  his  blossom,  his 
darling  Rose.  And  although  he  knew 
she  could  not  be  there  until  afternoon, 
he  was  up  earlier  than  usual,  fixing 
the  house,  and  seeing  that  everything 
was  in  order.  It  never  got  out  of 
order,  Mother  Lober  said,  though  she 
always  talked  of  "putting  it  to  rights." 
He  tried  to  sing,  whistle,  and  sew, 
as  usual,  but  the  music  always  grew 


104    The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

slow,  and  then  his  sewing  was  slow, 
until  at  last  he  thought  he  might  as 
well  take  a  holiday.  So,  what  did  he 
do,  but  dress  himself  in  his  Sunday 
clothes,  shut  up  the  house,  after  telling 
a  neighbor  where  he  was  going,  and 
walk  down  the  road  with  a  brisk  step 
to  meet  the  s.tage. 

"Won't  she  be  surprised  to  see 
grandfather?"  he  thought.  "My,  but 
my  old  eyes  will  be  glad  to  get  a 
sight  of  her  sweet  face."  So  he 
walked  on  for  a  long  distance,  shading 
his  eyes  with  his  hand,  and  peering 
down  the  road  to  see  if  there  was 
any  sign  of  the  stage.  Sometimes 
he  was  sure  he  saw  it,  and  straight- 


What  Rose  Did.  105 

ened  his  face,  and  tried  to  look 
proper,  and  after  all  it  was  only  a 
wagon. 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  it," 
he  would  say,  after  each  disappoint- 
ment. "Surely  nothing  could  have 
happened  to  it." 

Finally  he  began  to  be  tired,  for 
he  was  not  accustomed  to  long  walks, 
and  concluded  he  had  better  turn 
back.  It  must  certainly  be  along 
soon,  so  he  would  walk  slowly,  and 
it  would  overtake  him. 

But  although  he  walked  slowly,  and 
turned  back  many  times  to  look,  he 
found  he  was  within  sight  of  home, 
and  yet  it  had  not  appeared. 


io6     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

"If  I  didn't  know  she  was  away, 
I  would  surely  think  that  was  the 
child,"  he  said,  stopping  and  leaning 
forward  to  get  a  better  view  of  the 
figure  standing  by  the  gate.  Just 
then  she  spied  him,  and  throwing 
poor  Jim  Crow  out  of  her  arms,  Rose 
flew  down  the  road  like  a  bird  on 
the  wing,  with  delighted  cries  of, 
"  Here  he  is !  O  dear,  dear  grand- 
father!'* Then  springing  up,  she 
clung  to  his  neck  so  that  the  poor 
old  soul  could  not  straighten  himself 
to  look  at  her. 

O,  but'  he  was  glad !  and  O,  but 
she  was  glad !  and  so  the  two,  the 
old  heart  and  the  young,  were  happy, 


What  Rose  Did.  107 

as  hand  in  hand  they  went  toward 
the  little  cottage. 

"You  see,  grandfather,  there  was 
a  great  rain,  and  the  flood  washed 
away  a  bridge,  and  so  we  could  not 
come  home  the  way  we  went.  I 
was  frightened  when  I  saw  the  place 
all  shut  up,  for  I  was  sure  you 
were  dead;  but  Mrs.  Conrad  told 
me  you  had  gone  to  meet  me.  I 
wanted  to  go  after  you,  but  she 
said  you  would  soon  be  back,  and 
then  I  meant  to  jump  out  and 
frighten  you." 

It  was  very  late  before  supper  was 
eaten  that  evening,  for  grandfather 
had  to  tell  all  about  Jim  Crow,  and 


loS     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

what  he  did  every  day  of  the  four 
weeks. 

When  he  told  about  the  catnip 
tea,  Rose  declared  that  neither  he 
nor  Mother  Lober  knew  anything 
about  kittens.  Why,  he  never  drinks 
more  than  a  saucer  of  milk  for  his 
dinner,  grandfather,  you  know  he  is 
only  a  baby-cat  now,  and  they  can't 
eat  like  other  cats." 

"Sure  enough,"  said  her  grand- 
father, "we  might  have  known  that. 
But  he  looks  pretty  well,  doesn't 
he?" 

"He  looks  just  splendid;"  here  she 
gave  him  a  loving  squeeze,  which  Jim 
did  not  appear  to  relish.  "  There  was 


What  Rose  Did.  109 

a  cat  up  there,  black  like  Jim  Crow, 
but  it  was  a  hateful  thing,  it  scratched 
every  one  who  went  near  it." 

Here  her  grandfather  had  to  inter- 
pose and  say  it  was  bed- time,  the 
next  day  she  could  tell  all  about  the 
cat  and  everything  else.  So,  when 
he  had  knelt  down  and  thanked 
God  for  bringing  his  darling  home 
safe,  they  kissed  each  other,  said 
good-night,  and  went  to  bed. 

Rose  was  awake  very  early  the 
next  morning,  although  not  any  earlier 
than  she  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
getting  up  when  away.  She  listened, 
there  was  no  stir  in  the  next  room  ; 
so,  dressing  very  quietly,  she  said 
10 


no     The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

her  prayers,  and  went  down  stairs. 
She  knew  her  grandfather  must  be 
tired  after  his  long  walk,  and  did 
not  want  to  disturb  him. 

But  she  had  not  been  down  long 
when  the  old  man  made  his  appear- 
ance, feeling  as  bright  as  a  lark,  he 
said :  "And  now  I  must  see  this  little 
face  by  daylight,"  he  added,  drawing 
her  to  him,  and  kissing  Jier.  "Why, 
the  roses  out  in  the  garden  will  have 
to  hang  down  their  heads  when  you 
are  about." 

When  they  sat  at  breakfast,  he 
seemed  almost  too  happy  to  eat,  but 
kept  watching  her  with  the  greatest 
delight,  as  in  her  childish  way,  she 


What  Rose  Did.  1 1 1 

rattled  on  from  one  thing  to  another, 
now  asking  a  question,  now  having 
something  wonderful  to  tell. 

Breakfast  over,  they  knelt  down 
as  usual  to  pray  for  God's  kind  care 
over  them,  and  then,  when  the  little 
duties  were  performed,  such  as  Rose 
had  to  do,  her  grandfather  told  her 
he  could  not  be  patient  any  longer, 
but  must  hear  about  that  wonderful 
place. 

"  But  you  must  not  work  hard 
when  I  am  telling  you,  or  you  won't 
know  what  I  say,  and  it  is  going  to 
be  splendid.  So  Jerry  agreed  not 
to  work  too  hard,  and  Rose  com- 
menced. 


1 1 2     The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

"Well,  we  went  in  the  stage,  you 
know,  and  when  I  couldn't  see  you 
any  more,  I  wanted  to  get  out  and 
come  back,  but  Mrs.  Lapsley  said 
you  would  not  like  it.  So  we  went 
on,  and  the  roads  were  so  rough  that 
Mary  and  I  tumbled  into  each  other's 
laps,  and  we  had  splendid  fun.  Then 
we  went  on  the  boat,  and  that  was 
the  nicest  part  of  all.  The  water 
was  covered  with  little  white  sail- 
boats, and  we  saw  fish  jumping  up 
and  looking  out  of  the  water,  but 
when  they  saw  us,  they  put  their 
heads  in  again.  O,  I  can't  tell  you 
how  much  we  saw ;  and  it  was  so 
nice  and  cool  that  it  blew  my  hat 


What  Rose  Did.  113 

off,  and  it  came  pretty  ne.ar  being 
drowned." 

"  Did  it  go  overboard  ?"  asked 
Jerry. 

"  No,  sir,  but  it  might,  you  know. 
Wouldn't  I  have  looked  funny  without 
a  hat,  grandfather?" 

Her  grandfather  suggested  that  she 
might  have  worn  Jim  Crow's,  and 
then  they  both  had  a  good  laugh 
about  it. 

"Well  then,  after  we  got  oiit  of 
the  boat,  we  got  into  the  cars,  and 
they  went  so  fast  that  I  had  head- 
ache when  I  tried  to  look  at  the  fields. 
So  Mrs.  Lapsley  told  Mary  and  I  we 
had  better  go  to  sleep,  and  we  did. 
10* 


1 1 4     The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

I  guess  we  would  have  slept  all  day 
if  she  hadn't  wakened  us.  Then 
when  we  left  the  cars,  there  was  a 
carriage  waiting  for  us,  and  that  took 
us  to  Aunt  Betsy's. 

"O,  but  she  is  a  nice  Aunt  Betsy, 
grandfather !  She  kissed  me  the  same 
as  Mary,  and  called  me  her  child.  If 
she  was  a  step-mother  she  would 
never  whip  her  children  or  pull  their 
hair.  She  has  a  great  big  house, 
grandfather.  O,  it  is  ever  so  much 

o 

larger  than  this — it  is  like  a  castle 
Mary  says,  such  as  kings  and  queens 
used  to  live  in.  And  she  has  an  old 
father  like  you,  grandfather,  only  his 
hair  is  curly,  just  as  if  it  was  put 


What  Rose  Did.  1 1 5 

up  in  papers.  Mary  says  it  curls 
itself.  I  mean  to  put  yours  up ;  you 
don't  know  how  nice  you  will  look 
with  curls. 

" Where  was  I?— O,  yes!  Well, 
the  house  was  so  big  that  I  was 
afraid  to  go  about  by  myself;  why, 
you  could  be  lost  just  as  easy  as 
anything  in  it;  but  Mary  said  she 
could  run  all  about  and  never  be 
the  least  afraid.  We  had  a  little 
room  all  to  ourselves,  and  it  had 
two  little  beds  in.  Mary  slept  with 
me  in  mine  one  night,  and  I  slept 

with     her    the    next    ni^ht,    because 
&    ' 

Aunt  Betsy  said  we  should  do  as 
we  pleased. 


1 1 6     The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

"But  there  was  a  great  big  garret- 
room,  grandfather,  that  you  could  get 
lost  in,  and  nobody  ever  find  you, 
unless  they  were  as  smart  as  Mary. 
We  used  to  play,  '  Hot,  buttered,  blue 
beans,'  and  Mary  got  so  tired  sitting 
all  squeezed  up,  that  she  had  to  peep 
out  and  let  me  see  her.  For  I  never 
should  have  found  her  if  she  hadn't. 
It  had  great  big  closets  that  were  so 
dark  we  called  them  caverns,  but  we 
didn't  play  much  in  them,  we  only 
peeped  and  ran  away.  There  was 
one  splendid  one  though,  with  shelves 
all  around,  that  we  had  for  a  house, 
and  we  put  real  chairs  in  it,  and  called 
it  our  parlor.  Mary  had  her  doll 


What  Rose  Did.  1 1 7 

there,  and  Aunt  Betsy  let  me  have 
a  beautiful  one  to  play  with,  because 
I  was  careful,  she  said.  She  said 
it  used  to  be  her  sister's,  who  was 
dead,  and  I  was  the  only  little  girl  who 
ever  played  with  it  since.  Wasn't 
she  kind,  grandfather?  But  how  fast 
you  are  working !  did  you  hear  about 
the  doll?" 

"  You  don't  suppose  I  would  miss 
that  part,"  said  he,  shaking  his  head. 
"  But  how  would  it  do  to  have  a  doll 
of  our  own  ?  That  Jim  Crow  is  grow- 
ing too  big  a  child  to  nurse,  besides  he 
is  very  unmannerly,  he  thinks  nothing 
of  lifting  his  paw  and  giving  your 
cheek  a  slap." 


1 1 8     The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

At  this  Rose  went  into  a  perfect 
ecstasy  of  delight,  and  was  only 
brought  out  of  it  by  her  grandfather 
telling  her  she  hadn't  finished  with 
the  play-house. 

"Did  I  tell  you  about  the  stove?" 
she  asked,  opening  her  eyes  very 
wide  and  raising  her  voice.  "Well, 
only  to  think,  we  had  a  real  stove,  but 
it  was  not  for  grown  people,  only  for 
children.  It  had  pots  and  pans  that 
you  could  cook  in,  and  we  made 
dinners  and  suppers  up  there,  and 
invited  Aunt  Betsy  and  Mrs.  Lapsley. 
Aunt  Betsy  says  we  are  splendid 
cooks.  Mary  said  she  would  be  the 
one  to  taste  the  things,  so  that  they 


What  Rose  Did.  119 

would  be  all  right,  and  when  they 
wanted  sugar  or  salt,  I  put  it  in. 
Then  she  had  to  taste  again,  for  fear 
there  was  too  much,  she  said.  We 
had  to  work  very  hard  to  fix  up 
the  room,  before  we  invited  them 
to  dinner,  because  nobody  used  it, 
and  it  was  so  full  of  things.  We 
put  on  old  dresses,  and  swept  it 
all  over,  then  we  put  carpet  on  the 
floor  and  set  the  things  all  straight, 
and  Aunt  Betsy  sent  a  great  big  table 
up,  just  on  purpose  for  us. 

"  Aunt  Betsy  and  Mrs.  Lapsley  had 
their  bonnets  and  shawls  on,  just  as  if 
they  were  going  to  see  grown  people, 
and  they  never  laughed  at  our  dinner 


I2O     TJie   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

once.  The  chicken  got  scorched,  be- 
cause Mary  was  so  busy  tasting  the 
pudding,  that  she  forgot  it;  but  they 
said  it  would  happen  sometimes  with 
the  best  of  cooks. 

"  They  didn't  eat  much  though ;  I 
guess  they  thought  it  wouldn't  be 
polite,  but  we  didn't  have  much  left, 
for  I  was  awful  hungry.  They  talked 
to  us  as  if  we  were  big  people  like 
themselves,  and  said  we  had  a  very 
fine  house  and  a  very  good  child. 
For  Mary's  doll  was  sitting  at  the 
table  you  know,  in  a  little  high  chair. 

"  Then  they  invited  us  to  take  tea 
with  them,  and  we  had  it  out  in  the 
garden,  in  the  arbor  all  covered  over 


What  Rose  Did.  121 

with  honeysuckle  and  roses.  We 
took  the  doll  too,  and  she  wore  Jim 
Crow's  fine  hat  and  looked  splendid; 
and  we  dressed  ourselves  like  fine 
ladies. 

"Aunt  Betsy  invited  a  little  boy 
who  lived  near  her,  to  come  and  play 
with  us,  but  Mary  said  his  mother 
spoiled  him,  and  we  did  not  like  him. 
We  used  to  run  and  hide  in  the 
garret  when  we  saw  him  coming, 
and  you  know  he  never  could  find 
us  there,  so  he  had  to  go  home,  but  it 
made  him  angry.  He  upset  our 
dishes,  and  tossed  up  all  the  room. 
One  day  when  he  couldn't  find  us, 

he   caught   Mary's   doll   by   the  feet, 
11 


122     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

and  was  going  to  dash  its  brains 
out,  but  Mary  was  peeping,  and  she 
jumped  out  so  quick,  that  he  was 
awfully  frightened,  and  ran  down 
stairs  as  fast  as  he  could. 

"  He  did  not  come  back  for  a  good 
while,  and  then  we  told  him  we  would 
not  play  with  such  a  rude,  disagreea- 
ble boy." 

Here  Jerry  asked  if  it  would  not 
have  been  well  to  try  and  help  him 
to  be  good,  instead  of  sending  him 
off;  but  Rose  insisted  that  he  never 
could  do  any  better,  he  was  "  too 
spoiled  for  anything." 

"That  is  not  the  way  Jesus  does," 
said  he.  "Jesus  is  very  patient  with 


What  Rose  Did.  123 

wayward  children,  and  does  not  send 
them  away  because  they  do  some 
wrong  things.  He  is  only  sorry,  and 
tries  to  help  them  to  be  good." 

"I  forgot  that,  grandfather;  I  guess 
playing  so  much  made  me  forget  it; 
but  if  I  ever  go  there  again  I  will 
be  kind  to  him;"  and  a  kiss  after 
this,  made  Grandfather  Jerry's  face 
bright  as  ever. 

But  that  was  not  all  that  Rose 
saw,  or  these  were  not  all  the  de- 
lightful times  she  had.  When  Mr. 
Lapsley  went  to  take  them  home, 
he  took  her  out  ridincr  on  horse- 

o 

back,  and  he  rode  beside  her.  She 
was  not  a  bit  afraid,  she  said,  when 


124     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

he  led  the  horse,  for  it  went  so  nice 
and  slow,  but  after  awhile  he  let  go 
of  the  bridle,  and  when  her  horse 
saw  his  start  off,  he  ran  too ;  so  Rose 
just  put  her  arms  around  old  Snow's 
neck,  and  held  on  tightly  until  the 
old  horse  seemed  as  much  frightened 
as  she. 

"  He  wasn't  as  well  used  to  little 
girls  hugging  him  as  I  am,  was  he  ?" 
asked  Jerry,  laughing  at  the  funny 
picture.  Then  Mr.  Lapsley  stopped 
his  horse,  and  told  Snow  to  stop, 
and  Rose  never  would  go  horse- 
back riding  again.  But  what  was  a 
greater  wonder  than  all,  they  caught 
real  fish,  and  had  them  for  dinner, 


What  Rose  Did.  125 

and  they  tasted  just  like  the  fish  that 
were  bought,  only  ever  so  much 
better." 

In  a  little  while  Mary  came  over, 
and  then  Jerry  heard  the  story  over 
again,  with  some  things  that  Rose 
had  forgotten  to  tell  him,  so  that  it 
was  almost  as  good  as  if  he  had 
been  there  and  seen  all  himself,  he 
said. 

That  night,  true  to  her  promise, 
Rose  put  his  hair  in  curl-papers,  and 
as  there  was  not  much  of  it,  the  little 
there  was,  seemed  determined  to  have 
its  own  way,  and  stood  out  as  straight 
as  it  chose.  But  Rose  was  deter- 
mined not  to  give  up,  so,  by  dint 


126     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

of  screwing  and  twisting,  until  poor 
Jerry  felt  as  if  he  was  being  scalped, 
she  succeeded  in  making1  him  look 

o 

as  much  like  a  hedgehog  as  possible. 
With  every  paper,  she  would  inquire 
if  it  hurt  him,  and  encourage  him 
by  saying  that  it  would  soon  be  done, 
which  Jerry  secretly  rejoiced  to  hear. 
Now,  he  might  have  refused  to  put 
himself  under  this  torturing  process, 
but  then  what  were  a  few  twinges 
of  pain  to  him,  compared  with  the 
great  pleasure  it  gave  to  his  darling 
Rose? 

On  Saturday  night  he  had  to  beg 
off,  and  make  shaving  an  excuse,  or 
he  would  have  astonished  good  min- 


What  Rose  Did.  127 

ister  Lapsley  and  the  whole  congre- 
gation by  his  queer  little  curls.  For 
Rose  had  set  her  heart  upon  having 
him  go  to  church  looking  "as  sweet 
as  Aunt  Betsy's  father." 


128     The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    SKEIN    UNRAVELLED. 

IN  Sunday,  who  should  join 
them  as  they  were  walking  to 
church,  but  Fidler,  dressed  carefully 
and  looking  very  much  pleased  with 
the  old  man's  warm  greeting,  and 
the  artless  expressions  of  Rose. 

As  they  took  a  seat  in  God's  house, 
the  old  man  bent  his  head  and  poured 
forth  a  flood  of  gratitude.  Whose, 
but  the  Lord's  hand,  had  led  that 
boy  there ;  and  had  not  he  a  right 


The  Skein   Unravelled.         129 

to  praise  Him?  He  felt  that  he 
never  could  praise  enough. 

As  they  walked  home,  Ficller  said, 
"  Do  you  think  the  people  in  heaven 
know  what  we  are  doing  down  here, 
Jerry  ?" 

"Why  shouldn't  they?"  was  the 
reply.  "They  surely  have  not  less 
knowledge  than  they  had  on  earth. " 
He  mused  for  a  little  while,  then 
continued,  "  But  the  Bible  says  there 
is  no  sorrow  in  heaven,  so  I  suppose 
the  ministering  angels,  whom  God 
sends  down  on  errands  of  mercy,  fly 
back  with  joyful  tidings  to  the  rest. 
Maybe  they  only  take  the  sorrow- 
ful part  to  the  ear  of  God  Himself." 


130     The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

"If  that  is  so,"  thought  Fidler, 
"our  little  Clara  don't  hear  much 
good  news  about  me.  Wouldn't  she 
be  glad  though,  if  I  were  a  better 
boy  ?"  And  with  the  thought  came 
the  desire  to  make  some  one  happy 
by  trying  to  do  right. 

This  was  not  the  first  time  these 
thoughts  had  come  to  him.  Ever 
since  he  had  read  the  letter,  his  life 
had  been  coming  up  before  him,  as 
it  now  was,  and  as  it  ought  to  be. 
He  saw  that  if  it  ever  was  to  be 
made  right,  now  was  the  time  to 
begin. 

So  he  told  Jerry,  though  he  would 
not  have  breathed  it  to  any  one  else, 


The  Skein   Unravelled.         131 

that  on  the  day  he  finished  the  story, 
he  had  resolved  to  run  away  from 
home,  because  he  thought  no  one 
cared  for  him,  and  that  everything 
was  against  him. 

"That  is  the  very  way  I  used  to 
feel,"  said  the  old  man.  "And  when- 
ever a  boy  gets  to  that  point,  he 
had  better  look  sharp,  he  is  in  great 
danger  of  being  run  off  the  track 
entirely.  Why,  bless  your  heart,  boy, 
you  would  have  to  do  a  great  many 
outbreaking  things  before  your  mo- 
ther would  be  able  to  give  you  up. 
But  suppose  you  begin  to  think 
a  little  about  her  now,  and  see  if 
that  don't  bring  you  round  all  right. 


132     The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

Why,  if  we  did  half  as  much  for  our 
fathers  and  mothers  as  they  do  for 
us,  they  would  have  so  much  joy  in 
their  old  hearts  that  sorrow  couldn't 
begin  to  get  a  corner  there." 

Jerry  was  so  much  encouraged  by 
Fidler  going  to  church,  that  he  pro- 
posed to  the  boys,  as  they  did  not 
go  to  Sunday-school,  that  they  might 
step  in  and  spend  a  little  while  with 
him  on  Sunday. 

They  never  refused  his  invitations, 
and  now  they  thought  this  would  be 
a  good  opportunity  to  pass  away 
time,  for  to  boys  who  do  not  go  to 
Sunday-school,  the  day  is  generally 
long  and  tiresome. 


The  Skein  ^Unravelled.         133 

Now,  some  of  the  neighbors  were 
very  much  perplexed  as  to  what  all 
this  could  mean ;  it  was  very  strange 
that  such  a  good  old  man  should  have 
a  party  of  ungodly  boys  there  on 
Sunday;  it  might  be  well  enough  on 
other  days,  but  this  certainly  did  not 
look  well.  They  were  afraid  the  old 
man's  mind  was  growing  weak,  and 
that  the  boys  were  imposing  on  him. 

But  Jerry's  mind  was  quite  clear 
on  this  point.  He  knew  how  much 
the  boys  thought  of  him,  and  how 
attentively  they  listened  to  what  he 
said,  so,  while  he  liked  to  please  them, 
he  meant  to  try  and  profit  them  at 
the  same  time. 
12 


134     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

At  first  there  were  Bible  stones, 
and  these  Jerry  introduced  in  such 
a  charming  manner,  that  the  boys 
were  led  to  ask  questions,  and  finally 
this  led  to  Bible  lessons,  so  that  Jerry 
really  had  a  Sunday-school,  and  a 
most  attentive  class. 

Nothing  pleased  them  more  than 
to  have  a  long  lesson,  for  then  Rose 
was  sure  to  get  home  from  her  school 
before  they  left,  and  to  take  part  in 
the  lesson  with  them.  Why,  the 
Bible  seemed  like  a  picture-book 
when  she  and  Jerry  talked  about  it, 
and  they  made  everything  appear  as 
if  it  were  before  them. 

There  was  a  great  difference  in  the 


The  Skein   Unravelled.         135 

taste  of  the  boys.  Some  of  them 
preferred  the  old  Testament  stories, 
where  the  kings  and  their  armies 
went  out  to  battle,  and  where  there 
were  such  glorious  victories.  But 
Jerry  never  let  them  lose  sight  of 
the  fact,  that  success  always  attended 
those  who  put  their  trust  in  God. 
That  it  was  not  numbers,  but  the 
Almighty  Arm  that  gained  for  them 
their  victories,  and  that  even  a  hand- 
ful, through  His  help,  were  more 
powerful  than  a  great  army  unaided. 

Others  liked  the  New  Testament, 
where  every  page  spoke  of  the  love 
which  made  glad  and  happy  the 
lives  with  which  it  come  in  contact. 


136     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

Among  those  of  the  latter,  was  Fidler. 
Now  he  and  the  rest  had  often  read 
the  New  Testament  when  they  went 
to  school,  but  the  Saviour's  life  never 
appeared  then  as  it  did  now,  and  he 
almost  thought  he  could  see  Him,  as 
never  thinking  of  himself  He  went 
about  foot-sore  and  weary,  yet  always 
having  some  word  of  cheer  for  the 
distressed,  or  being  ready  to  perform 
some  kind  act. 

It  puzzled  Fidler  to  know  how  He 
could  always  think  of  the  happiness 
of  others,  when  he  had  so  few  com- 
forts Himself.  But  Jerry  made  that 
all  plain,  by  showing  him  that  He 
came  not  to  do  His  own  will,  but 


The  Skein   Unravelled.         137 

the  will  of  His  Father  in  heaven, 
and  that  the  divine  nature  always 
had  the  ascendency  over  the  human. 

"That  was  a  good  name  for  him, 
wasn't  it?"  said  Fidler,  when  they 
read,  'And  His  name  shall  be  called 
Wonderful,  Counsellor,  The  Mighty 
God,  The  Everlasting  Father,  The 
Prince  of  Peace,'  for  he  did  wonder- 
ful things." 

Then  the  boys  gave  their  opinion 
as  to  which  was  the  most  wonderful. 
Amos  King  thought  the  raising  of 
the  dead  was;  and  Fidler,  His  walking 
on  the  water  and  taking  Peter  with 
Him. 

One  of  them  turned  to  Rose,  and 
12* 


138     The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

asked  which  she  thought  the  greatest 
wonder. 

"Why,  I  think  the  greatest  won- 
der was  that  Jesus  sho11!^  be  willing 
to  come  down  here  and  suffer  so 
much  for  us,  when  we  are  so  ungrate- 
ful and  have  so  little  love  for  Him." 

Her  grandfather  nodded  approv- 
ingly. "  Yes,  when  He  could  do  that, 
He  could  do  anything.  Every  day 
when  I  think  about  it,  it  seems  more 
wonderful  that  He  has  been  so  patient 
with  me  all  these  years,  and  all  the 
time  has  been  holding  out  a  crown  of 
glory  to  encourage  me.  When  Jesus 
can  save  me,  there  is  nothing  at 
which  my  faith  can  stagger." 


The  Skein   Unravelled.          139 

"  Why,"  they  all  exclaimed,  "  you 
are  a  Christian,  Jerry,  the  Lord  don't 
have  to  be  patient  with  you  !" 

"I  would  never  have  been  a  Chris- 
tian if  it  had  not  been  for  the  grace 
of  God  through  Jesus  Christ,  boys, 
and  the  same  grace  is  needed  to 
keep  me  one.  I  could'nt  even  for 
one  minute  do  without  having  my 
heart  washed  from  its  impurity." 

"  But  you  can't  be  every  minute 
thinking  about  it,  or  you  would  not 
be  able  to  do  any  shoemaking,"  said 
George  Gordon,  with  surprise  at  this 
speech. 

"  No,  surely  not,"  replied  Jerry, 
"but  when  my  heart  is  all  given 


140     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

up  to  Him,  He  thinks  of  it  for 
me,  and  keeps  the  blood  applied 
which  washes  whiter  than  snow.  It 
is  a  wonderful  thing  truly,  children, 
and  when  you  find  out  about  it,  as 
I  pray  you  may,  you  will  think  it 
wonderful  too." 

One  day  Fidler  said  to  him,  "There 
is  one  thing,  Jerry,  which  I  never 
could  make  out :  how  you  could  be  so 
cheerful,  after  what  happened  when 
you  were  a  boy/' 

"I  understand,"  the  old  man  re- 
plied. "  I  thought  then  I  must  carry 
a  sorrowful  face  about  with  me  all 
my  days.  But  then  I  began  to  reason 
that  as  I  had  brought  sadness  and 


The  Skein   Unravelled.          141 

gloom  to  two  lives,  it  should  be  my 
business  ever  after  to  make  others 
glad  and  happy.  And  the  Bible  says, 
'  By  reason  of  a  cheerful  countenance 
the  heart  is  made  glad.'  Besides, 
when  God's  love  is  within,  it  can't  be 
concealed,  but  will  shine  out  in  the 
gladness  of  the  face." 

As  proof  of  his  business  to  make 
happy,  Jerry  announced  his  intention 
of  going  into  the  city  one  day,  along 
with  a  neighbor.  He  often  went  for 
leather,  and  Rose  thought  of  course 
that  was  what  he  was  going  for  then. 
In  the  afternoon,  when  she  returned 
from  her  friend  Mary's,  where  she 
had  gone  after  school,  she  found  her 


142     The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

grandfather  at  home,  looking,  if  any- 
thing, happier  than  ever. 

As  she  tripped  about  the  room, 
telling  him  of  what  had  happened 
since  morning,  he  kept  watching  her 
now  and  then,  but  pretending  to  be 
very  busy  at  work. 

At  last  he  felt  like  Mary  when  they 
played,  "Hot  buttered  blue  beans"  at 
Aunt  Betsy's,  he  could  not  wait  any 
longer,  so  he  said,  "  Here,  little  wife, 
hand  over  my  pocket-handkerchief, 
there  it  lies,  on  the  table  yonder." 

"Is  this  it,  all  spread  out?"  she 
asked,  and  lifting  it  up,  gave  a  scream 
of  delight,  then,  with  mouth  and  eyes 
wide  open,  stood  looking. 


The  Skein   Unravelled.         143 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  her 
grandfather,  trying  to  look  surprised. 

"  O,  grandfather,  you  know  very 
well!  Did  you  buy  it  yourself?  I 
don't  see  how  you  could  get  such  a 
splendid,  splendid  doll.  And  its  eyes 
open  and  shut !  O  !  it  is  the  sweetest 
thing,  and  you  are  the  sweetest  old 
man  that  ever  lived !" 

"  What  about  Jim  Crow  now  ?" 
asked  he. 

"O,  Jim  Crow  is  spoiled,  and  I 
can't  do  anything  with  him.  Now 
he  may  just  do  what  he  pleases  when 
I  have  the  doll." 

So  Jim  Crow  obtained  his  freedom, 
and  the  doll  was  adopted  in  his  stead. 


144     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

Fidler  came  over  often,  to  talk  to 
Jerry,  when  the  boys  were  not  along, 
for  he  had — what  every  one  must  have 
whose  heart  is  not  changed — a  hard 
time  in  leading  a  new  life. 

But  no  matter  what  struggle  he 
had,  Jerry  always  seemed  to  under- 
stand him,  and  was  ready  to  help  him. 
But  he  warned  him  not  to  depend 
upon  him,  nor  upon  his  own  efforts 
in  such  a  great  matter.  "If  the  evil 
is  not  taken  out  of  the  heart,  we 
need  not  try  to  keep  the  outward 
life  smooth,  for,  like  Vesuvius,  it  will 
surely  break  forth,"  he  said. 

So  Jerry,  knot  after  knot,  and  snarl 
after  snarl,  unravelled  the  tangled 


The  Skein   Unravelled.         145 

skein,  until  it  came  out  fair  and 
smooth.  So  he  was  made  a  blessing 
to  these  boys,  and  in  return  had 
great  joy  as  he  thought  of  these 
words  of  Holy  Writ : — "  Let  him 
know  that  he  who  converteth  the 
sinner  from  the  error  of  his  way, 
shall  save  a  soul  from  death,  and 
shall  hide  a  multitude  of  sins." 

13 


146     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 
CHAPTER  VIII. 

KEEPING    THE    TOLLGATE. 

|lME  rolled  on,  and  Rose  was 
on  the  verge  of  womanhood. 
Jerry's  thin  locks  were  now  of  snowy 
whiteness,  and  his  still  cheery  voice 
had  lost  its  roundness,  being  more 
tremulous  and  broken;  but  still  his 
heart  kept  young  and  fresh. 

No  day  passed  without  seeing  him 
seated  on  his  bench  at  work,  but 
it  was  more  toil  now  than  formerly, 
and  the  customers  had  to  wait  much 
longer  for  their  work,  so  that,  re- 


Keeping  the  Toll  gate.          147 

luctantly,  one  after  another  was  com- 
pelled to  go  elsewhere. 

Rose  had  grown  very  thoughtful 
during  the  last  few  years,  knowing 
that  in  a  very  little  time  her  grand- 
father would  have  to  lay  aside  his 
work,  and  then  would  need  comforts 
such  as  their  means  would  not  al- 
low. 

The  village  school  was  very  good 
in  its  way;  the  teachers  earnest  in 
the  discharge  of  their  duties;  but 
they  only  claimed  to  teach  the  ordi- 
nary branches  of  a  common  school 
education,  and  not  such  as  would  fit 
their  pupils  in  turn  to  impart  instruc- 
tion. 


148     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

Now  all  her  life,  ever  since  Rose 
had  played  school  with  her  friend 
Mary  and  Jim  Crow,  she  had  meant 
to  be  a  teacher,  and  had  given  her 
grandfather  to  understand  that  just 
as  soon  as  she  began  to  teach  he 
should  "play  gentleman,"  and  never 
put  another  stitch  in.  At  this  the 
old  man  had  laughed,  and  told  her 
she  would  need  to  succeed  better 
with  her  scholars  than  she  did  with 
Jim  Crow;  while  she,  also  laughing, 
•assured  him  that  there  was  a  great 
difference  between  cats  and  children. 
"I  don't  know,"  he  said,  shaking 
his  head;  "one  can  be  about  asper- 
verse  as  the  other." 


Keeping  the  Tollgate.          149 

If  she  could  only  go  away  to  school 
for  a  little  while,  Rose  thought,  she 
would  study  so  hard  that  she  would 
soon  be  fitted  to  pass  an  examination, 
and  then  she  knew  she  could  get  a 
school  somewhere.  But  here  was 
her  grandfather  growing  more  fee- 
ble each  day;  how  eould  she  leave 
him  ? 

Then,  to  make  it  all  the  harder, 

Mary  Lapsley  was  going  to  B , 

only  twenty-five  miles  distant,  and 
Aunt  Betsy,  when  she  heard  of  Rose's 
wish  to  teach,  had  offered  to  send  her 
along  with  her  niece.  A  great  many 
tears  fell  those  days,  and  the  old 
cobbler's  Rose  had  a  very  dejected' 

13* 


150     The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

air;  but  it  was  only  when  out  of  his 
sight  that  she  gave  way  to  her  grief 
and  disappointment.  When  with  him, 
no  one  could  ever  have  supposed  she 
had  a  care  about  anything,  or  was 
other  than  the  Rose  of  years  ago. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Rose 
was  alone  in  her  thoughts  of  the 
future;  day  after  day,  as  the  old 
man  sat  there,  came  up  thoughts  as 
to  the  prospect  of  his  darling  after 
he  was  gone,  or  after  he  was  no 
longer  able  to  work.  Then  he  chided 
himself  for  giving  such  thoughts  a 
place  in  his  heart.  "As  if  He  who 
watches  over  the  unfolding  of  the 
bud  will  withhold  His  tender  care 


Keeping  the  Tollgate.          151 

from  the  blossom,"  he  said.  "  No, 
no,  old  heart,  this  is  no  time  to 
mistrust  now;  for  you  and  for  her 
the  Lord  will  surely  provide." 

Rose  had  learned  these  lessons 
from  her  grandfather,  and  not  from 
him  alone.  The  Holy  Spirit  had  been 
imprinting  on  her  heart,  for  many 
years,  precious  truths ;  but  young 
hearts  are  not  so  apt  to  look  away 
from  their  own  efforts  as  the  old, 
so  that  Rose  could  not  quite  under- 
stand how  they  could  possibly  live 
when  her  grandfather  could  no  longer 
work,  unless  she  was  the  support. 

Mary  was  about  as  much  disap- 
pointed as  Rose  when  the  latter 


152     TJie  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

could  not  accept  Aunt  Betsy's  kind 
offer ;  but  her  father  and  mother  were 
sure  that  under  existing  circumstances 
she  could  not  do  otherwise  than  re- 
main at  home.  But  they  sat  themselves 
to  work  to  devise  a  plan  by  which 
Jerry  and  Rose  could  be  helped. 

"There  is  nothing  he  can  do,  and 
now  the  question  is,  what  employ- 
ment is  Rose  fitted  for?"  said  Mrs. 
Lapsley.  "She  might  sew,  perhaps, 
for  I  have  been  teaching  her  along 
with  Mary ;  but  she  is  so  young,  and 
without  any  one  older  to  direct  her, 
I  am  afraid  her  work  would  not  give 
satisfaction  to  strangers." 

"I  think  I  see  a  little  light  in  the 


Keeping  the  Tollgate.          153 

midst  of  this  fog,"  said  her  husband. 
"Just  now  it  occurs  to  me  that  Mrs. 
Benson,  who  keeps  the  tollgate,  is 
going  West  to  live  with  her  son 
James.  Now  how  would  that  employ- 
ment suit  the  old  man?" 

"The  very  thing,"  was  the  reply; 
"see  about  it  at  once." 

And  now  Jerry's  faith  and  trust 
were  rewarded,  for  He  who  gave 
Mr.  Lapsley  the  thought,  and  is  so 
interested  in  even  what  we  call  the 
little  things  in  our  lives,  so  controlled 
circumstances  and  furthered  plans, 
that  in  a  few  weeks  Jerry  and  Rose 
were  in  the  little  white- washed  house 
at  the  tollgate. 


154    T/ie  Cobbler  and  Itis  Rose. 

"  My !  child,  but  He  is  a  wonderful 
helper,  this  God  of  ours,  isn't  He?" 
said  the  old  man,  as  he  sat  down 
at  the  window  to  rest,  after  the  fatigue 
of  moving. 

"He  has  been  good  to  us,  grand- 
father, any  how,"  was  the  reply.  "  But 
ever>*  one  is  kind,  you  know.  It  was 
Mr.  Lapsley  who  got  us  this  house, 
and  then  to  think  of  the  boys — wasn't 
it  good  of  them  helping  to  move? 
Fidler  said  he  was  not  the  least  bit 
tired." 

"Yes,  that  is  the  way  the  Lord 
works.  He  plans  and  gets  others  to 
execute,  so  that  they  may  be  helped 
and  blessed  in  return.  For  while 


Keeping  the  Tollgate.          155 

they  have  made  us  comfortable  and 
happy,  I'll  warrant  not  one  of  them 
has  a  sad  heart  to-night,  although 
poor  Fidler  may  have  aching  bones. 
That  boy  has  the  right  spirit  in  him, 
child,  and  the  Lord  will  give  him 
plenty  of  work  to  do  for  Him." 

"If  it  hadn't  been  for  you,  grand- 
father, he  says  he  would  have  been 
lost,  for  he  was  growing  hardened." 

"  I  was  only  the  mouth-piece,  child ; 
the  word  and  the  power  came  from 
above,"  and  the  old  man  looked  rever- 
ently up. 

"You  won't  work  any  more  now, 
grandfather  ?"  she  said,  the  day  after 
their  moving-. 


156    The  Cobbler  arid  his  Rose. 

"  Not  much,"  he  replied,  "  only  be- 
tween whiles,  you  know." 

"But  I  don't  see  why  you  need 
work  at  all;  we  will  have  enough 
to  support  us,  won't  we?" 

"Aye,  aye,  the  Lord  has  made 
good  provision  for  us,  child ;  but  you 
see  idleness  is  not  becoming  in  one 
of  my  years." 

"O,  one  would  think  you  were  a 
young  man,  grandfather,"  she  said, 
laughing,  and  giving  him  a  loving 
embrace.  "  But  I  don't  like  to  see 
you  work  so  hard.  I  want  you  to 
be  like  Aunt  Betsy's  father." 

"What,  curls  and  all?"  he  asked, 
with  a  quizzical  look.  "You  don't 


Keeping  the  Tollgate.          157 

mean  to  screw  my  gray  hairs  up  in 
the  unmerciful  way  you  once  did?" 

"  If  you  don't  work  hard,  I  won't  ; 
but — well,  I  won't  promise  what  I 
shall  do  if  you  disobey  me,"  and 
the  merry  creature  ran  away  to  have 
everything  in  perfect  order  when  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Lapsley  came  in  the  after- 
noon. 

"Any  toll  to  pay?"  asked  that  gen- 
tleman, as  he  and  his  wife  stepped 
inside  of  the  door. 

"Yours  is  all  paid  up  long  ago," 
was  the  reply  of  Jerry,  as,  with  a 
beaming  face,  he  greeted  his  visitors. 
"That  is,  I  am  deep  in  debt  to  you, 
sir,  but,  like  everything  else,  I  leave 

14 


158     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

the  payment  to  Him  whose  are  the 
silver,  and  the  gold,  and  the  cattle 
upon  a  thousand  hills." 

"And  no  better  paymaster  do  I 
want,  my  friend,"  said  Mr.  Lapsley, 
"though  I  feel  already  fully  repaid 
by  the  comfortable  appearance  of 
your  home.  "Why,  I  declare  you 
look  as  cheery,  and  everything  seems 
as  fresh,  as  if  you  and  Rose  here  were 
bride  and  groom,  and  had  just  com- 
menced housekeeping." 

"We  love  each  other  just  as  well, 
don't  we,  grandfather?"  asked  Rose, 
laying  her  white  hand  on  the  old 
man's  shoulder.  He  drew  her  down 
and  kissed  her,  saying,  "Aye,  just 


Keeping  the  Toll  gate.          159 

as  well,  my  dear,  for  no  love  comes 
between,  does  it?" 

"None  but  God's,  grandfather." 

Then  Rose  took  Mrs.  Lapsley  to 
show  her  the  house. 

"Be  sure  you  take  her  all  over 
it,"  said  her  grandfather,  as  they 
ascended  the  stairs  leading  to  the 
only  two  rooms  above. 

"Grandfather  is  very  happy,"  said 
Rose,  as  they  sat  down  in  her  little 
box  of  a  room  ;  "  he  seems  to  have 
grown  younger  in  the  last  week." 

"And  what  about  Rose?"  asked 
Mrs.  Lapsley. 

"  O,"  and  her  sweet  face  flushed, 
"I  am  very  glad  and  very  content. 


160     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

I  have  grandfather  and^0#,  dear  Mrs. 
Lapsley,  and  I  don't  worry  about  the 
future  now,  for  I  know  that  God  takes 
care  of  every  day  He  gives  us." 

"That  has  been  the  secret  of  your 
grandfather's  happiness  for  years," 
said  her  friend,  "and  it  can  never 
fail  to  give  joy  to  know  that  every 
moment  of  our  life  God  is  making 
all  things  work  together  for  our  good, 
and  that  so  special  is  His  care  that 
even  the  very  hairs  of  our  head  are 
all  numbered.  But  I  had  a  letter  from 
Mary, — you  may  read  it  now,  if  you 
wish ;  you  see  she  says  she  will  write 
to  you  as  soon  as  you  can  spare  time 
to  read  a  letter." 


Keeping  the  Tollgate.          161 

As  Rose  opened  the  letter  with 
eagerness,  and  read,  Mrs.  Lapsley 
watched  her  attentively.  Now  there 
was  a  smile  and  a  merry  laugh  as 
she  went  over  the  account  of  Mary's 
exploits,  or  read  the  comic  description 
of  her  room-mate ;  then  her  face  was 
shaded,  and  a  tear  stole  down  her 
cheek  as  Mary  told  how  she  longed 
for  her  friend  Rose,  and  how  happy 
they  might  both  be  together. 

As  she  slowly  folded  the  letter  and 
handed  it  back,  Mrs.  Lapsley  said, 
"  Well,  what  about  Rose  now?  is  she 
'very  glad  and  very  content'?" 

"O  yes,  ma'am,  I  am  just  as  glad 
and  content  as  before.  I  only  thought 

14* 


1 62     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

how  nice  it  would  have  been  if  I  could 
have  gone  to  the  Seminary." 

"I  understand  it  all,  my  dear,"  was 
the  reply,  as  Mrs.  Lapsley  kissed  the 
blushing  girl's  cheek  ;  "  and  the  dear 
Heavenly  Father  knows  all  about 
it.  He  is  not  losing  sight  of  you, 
my  child,  in  that  you  are  not  able 
to  gratify  your  wish,  but  He  needs 
you  to  help  Him  take  care  of  His 
faithful  old  servant,  your  grandfather, 
and  He  smiles  upon  your  loving  and 
cheerful  devotion.  Isn't  that  great 
reward  ?" 

Then  Mrs.  Laplsey  made  a  pro- 
posal to  Rose  that  she  should  send 
her  sewing-machine  over  to  her  house, 


Keeping  the  Tollgate.          163 

and  that  Rose  could  do  her  sewing 
for  her. 

"I  am  not  strong,"  she  said,  "and  I 
miss  Mary  very  much  in  that  respect, 
so  I  will  cut  and  baste  it,  and  you  will 
not  have  any  trouble,  while  it  will 
save  me  a  great  deal  of  labor;  be- 
sides, it  will  give  you  change  for  many 
little  things  you  need,  now  that  you 
are  growing  up." 

This  was  delightful  news  to  Rose, 
and  she  hastened  to  impart  it  to  her 
grandfather.  But  when  they  entered, 
Mr.  Lapsley  exclaimed,  "  My  dear,  I 
have  found  a  very  valuable  assistant 
in  my  parochial  work:  our  friend  here 
requests  me  to  give  him  a  bundle  of 


1 64     The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

tracts  so  that  he  may  distribute  them 
to  the  passers  by.  Isn't  that  en- 
couraging?" 

"Indeed  it  is,"  said  his  wife,"  and 
there  is  no  doubt  but  that  good  will 
be  accomplished  by  it ;  it  was  a  very 
happy  thought  of  our  old  friend.  You 
mean  to  hand  them  to  the  people  as 
they  pay  toll,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes  ma'am,  I  thought  a  word  or  a 
tract,  or  both,  would  not  surely  go 
wrong,  and  I  would  like  to  scatter 
some  good  seed,  even  if  I  do  not  live 
to  see  the  harvest,  or  the  spring- 
ing up  of  the  seed.  It  appears  won- 
derful to  me  at  times  that  when  there 
are  so  many  young  and  vigorous 


Keeping  the  Toll  gate.          165 

workers,  the  Lord  notices  such  as  I, 
to  give  me  work." 

"He  has  need  of  all,  or  rather, 
He  chooses  to  employ  all,  so  that 
each  one  may  feel  their  individual 
responsibility,"  was  the  reply  of  Mr. 
Lapsley,  "  and  if  He  would  confer  any 
special  honor,  it  must  certainly  be 
upon  those  who  have  borne  the 
burden  and  heat  of  the  day." 

The  next  day  Jerry  received  his 
package  of  tracts,  and  in  a  few  days 
the  sewing  machine  made  its  appear- 
ance, and  quite  a  bundle  of  work  for 
the  poor  of  the  parish. 

So  the  new  home  brought  new 
work,  and  with  it  came  new  joy. 


1 66     The   Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

There  were  many  times  when  on 
coming  in  from  having  received  toll, 
Jerry's  face  shone  so  that  he  seen;eJ. 
almost  transfigured,  and  then  Rose 
knew  that  he  had  been  speaking  of 
Jesus,  for  no  other  name  could  bring 
such  light  to  the  fading  eye,  or  such 
illumination  to  the  rugged  wrinkled 
face. 

The  boys  still  came  as  before,  on 
Sunday,  and  many  times  through  the 
week  Fidler  dropped  in.  But  he 
never  was  allowed  to  take  the  toll, 
because  there  was  something  more 
to  be  done,  the  old  man  said. 

"  I  know,  give  them  a  tract — I  can 
do  it,"  was  the  willing  boy's  reply. 


Keeping  the  Tailgate.          167 

"  More  than  that,"  said  Jerry ;  "  ask 
them  if  they  love  Jesus,  and  tell  them 
that  He  loves  them;  can  you  do 
that?" 

"Not  like  you — I  wish  I  could," 
was  the  response. 

"Just  try  it,"  said  Jerry.  "You 
will  never  open  your  mouth  to  speak 
of  Jesus,  without  finding  words  put 
into  it;  and  then,  when  you  have 
spoken  them,  and  asked  the  Lord  to 
bless  your  effort,  you  have  done  your 
part,  the  Holy  Spirit  will  do  the  rest." 

When  Jerry  became  too  old  to 
leave  his  chair,  Rose  took  up  his  work, 
and  many  a  careless  man  and  gay 
thoughtless  woman  heard  from  her 


1 68     The  Cobbler  and  his  Rose. 

lips,  as  if  from  those  of  an  angel,  the 
words  of  Jesus  to  a  fallen  world.  "  It 
was  very  easy,"  she  said,  when  people 
asked  how  she  could  be  so  courage- 
ous, "for  she  loved  Him  best,  and 
of  course,  wanted  to  speak  of  Him 
most." 

So  the  old  heart  and  the  young 
were  of  one  spirit,  and  had  but  one 
life-work. 


THE   END. 


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